


The Well of Urd

by MechBull



Series: Baby Mack [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:39:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 45,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4368731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a nonlinear, non-subjective viewpoint, it’s more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey…stuff. Based on a prompt from somefitzsimmonsfan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [somefitzsimmonsfan (someshipperfan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/someshipperfan/gifts).



_Jemma closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pressed her hands against her thighs to stop them from shaking. And then she turned the corner and walked into the garage. This had gone on long enough. She had spent many hours the last few days thinking and coming to some important, hopefully not too late conclusions. And now she was going to fix it. They were going to fix it. Together._

_“Fitz,” she called out._

_Both he and Mack looked up from whatever they were working on at the little table that Fitz had set up in the corner of the garage. Mack turned and gave her a welcoming but guarded smile. Fitz, distressingly, just had the same half-terrified, half-awed expression he had been giving her since she had finished his sentence in the alien city. Since much longer than that, if she were honest._

_She walked about halfway across the garage and then stopped. Gesturing somewhat awkwardly behind her, she spoke again._

_“Can I, um, speak with you?”_

_Fitz glanced at Mack, who gave him a tiny nod, and then he stood. Jemma immediately turned and walked back into the hallway, hoping that he followed her. When she turned again and saw him coming closer, his eyes boring into her and two fingers trailing along the wall, she sighed in relief._

_“What – Is something…wrong?” he asked, stopping about three feet from her._

_She nodded and stepped closer, reaching out to grab at the end of his cardigan before he could back away. “Yes,” she said. “But I think I know how we can fix it.”_

_He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, clearly a little confused. And Jemma just smiled, a sense of certainty going through her after feeling so long like she’d never know how she felt or what she wanted. She stepped forward again, crowding into his personal space, and lifting her mouth up to his._

_The kiss was short-lived and chaste, and then Fitz jumped back from her._

_“What – what – what…”_

_“I love you, Fitz,” she said as sincerely as she knew how. “And if you still love me, if you still want this, I’m ready. I’m sorry it took me so long.”_

_“But…” Fitz squeezed his eyes shut, and lifted his hand up by his head, waving it briefly before clenching it into a fist._

_“I love you,” Jemma repeated._

_“Why?” he whispered, opening his eyes to reveal a vulnerable and still confused expression._

_She exhaled a short, almost humorless laugh, not surprised by his reluctance. “Why do you love me?” she asked rhetorically. “I don’t know how to answer that simply, or so you believe me. There’s no way to put more than a decade and the most important relationship of my life into a few words. I just do. I just know.”_

_“How – do y-you know?”_

_Jemma fought a smile. “How do you know you love me?”_

_“You’re not just – you’re not…”_

_Jemma shook her head. “I’m not just anything, Fitz. I love you. I’m in love with you. You’re my best friend, and I need you, and I want you.”_

_He stared at her some more, and Jemma started to feel a little self-conscious. She swallowed and ducked her head, lifting her hand to tuck some hair behind her ear. “Do you still…” she began in a whisper._

_“Yes!” Fitz responded urgently, practically shouting. He looked around nervously. “Yes,” he repeated in a more moderate volume. “I st-still lo-o – I still – damn it.”_

_Jemma smiled and stepped closer to him again. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leaned into him and waited until he looked at her._

_“It’s OK, Fitz. I think I can finish that sentence for you. And if you can’t say it, why don’t you show me instead?”_

_Jemma spent much of the next ten minutes being pressed up against the wall and kissed to within an inch of her life. She was happy it was a relatively untraveled hallway, but she probably wouldn’t have cared either way._

**

Jemma closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pressed her hands against her thighs to stop them from shaking. And then she turned the corner and walked into the garage. This had gone on long enough. She had spent many hours the last few days thinking and coming to some important, hopefully not too late conclusions. And now she was going to fix it. They were going to fix it. Together.

“Fitz,” she called out.

Both he and Mack looked up from whatever they were working on at the little table that Fitz had set up in the corner of the garage. Mack turned and gave her a welcoming but guarded smile. Fitz, distressingly, just had the same half-terrified, half-awed expression he had been giving her since she had finished his sentence in the alien city. Since much longer than that, if she were honest. 

She walked about halfway across the garage and then stopped. Gesturing somewhat awkwardly behind her, she spoke again. 

“Can I, um, speak with you?”

Fitz glanced at Mack, who gave him a tiny nod, and then he stood. But there was no time to do anything else, because at that exact moment, May and Coulson walked into the garage, followed by Skye, Hunter and Bobbi, all of them in tactical gear. 

“Electric surge about two miles away,” Coulson said. “Signature is almost Asgardian, but there’s something else to it. Grab the DWARFs and let’s go.”

Fitz rushed over to the stock shelves and grabbed the DWARF case, meeting Jemma at the door of the SUV. He gave her a small smile as he waited for her to climb in.

“Guess it will have to wait.”

“Guess so,” Jemma agreed, feeling more than a little bit disappointed, even as the excitement about a potential Asgardian encounter grew. She just hoped it was more Lady Sif (or Thor!) than Lorelei or Loki.

It was neither, in the end. Just something that looked like a large shallow bowl lying on the ground, and several feet away, a young woman groaning and attempting to sit up. Jemma rushed over to aid her.

“Now, now,” Jemma warned softly. “Lie still for a moment, just in case. Are you injured?”

“No,” the woman said, shaking her head and then immediately lifting her hand to it with a groan.

“Let me ask you some questions,” Jemma said. “What’s your name?”

“Mack.”

“OK, Mack, what year is it?”

“Um…2040?”

“OK, and – I’m sorry, did you say 2040? Or 2014?”

“I – I don’t know. The second one, maybe?”

“OK,” Jemma breathed out in relief. It was close enough. “And – ”

“I don’t feel so good,” Mack moaned, before turning to her side and vomiting. Fitz, who had just walked up to join them, immediately backed away with a small noise of protest.

Jemma just leaned forward and murmured comfortingly, rubbing between Mack’s shoulders in small circles and trying not to breathe too deeply. Or look. Or listen to the sounds of retching. Finally, it was over. 

Mack turned around and fell back to her elbows again. “What’s your name?” she asked, still obviously sick and disoriented.

“My name’s Jemma. Jemma Simmons, and I’m going to help you.”

Mack’s eyes widened. “Mom?” she asked, nearly breathless. “I did it,” she continued, almost to herself.

“Well,” Jemma replied, fighting a smile and reaching into her bag. “I’m not sure what _it_ is, but I think what you’ve done is received quite a shock to your system somehow. So now, I’m going to sedate you until we can get you to a better facility.”

“What, no!”

“Yep,” Jemma said. “Don’t worry, just one little sting and – ”

She pressed the plunger of the syringe and moved quickly to catch Mack as the fast-acting anesthetic worked its way into her. Fitz moved forward again to help, broadly sidestepping the puddle of vomit.

“Did she just call you Mom?” he asked, grinning.

“Oh, hush.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I started plotting/writing this in, like, February, so it kind of kicks off from around the hiatus, although I might work in some later canon. Then I was blocked and/or too busy to write for several months, and now I’m in a writing mode again. However, I’m still super stressed in real life and while I’m a few chapters ahead, I don’t have enough written to post at my usual rate. I think positive feedback will help and it’s sort of a contract with myself because I have never in the last 10-15 years abandoned a WIP once I started posting it. So, it will be slow-going, but it will be finished. I’m going to aim for one chapter a week (not necessarily always posted on Saturday though).
> 
> Also, the alternative title for this is "Mack to the Future" (TM typhanni/notapepper)


	2. Chapter One

Mack walked quickly through the halls, coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the mug as she hurried. It was like this every single day, it seemed. Just because she was one of the youngest, most accomplished professors at the Academy – that wasn’t bragging, that was just fact – didn’t mean she was any less absent-minded than her colleagues. And it was far too easy to become absorbed in her research and forget when she had to leave for her classes. 

The Academy had only really been re-established for several years, and the student body was still small, but it could afford to be selective too, both in the recruits they admitted and the professors they hired. Some people, Mack knew, believed her own position was the result of nepotism or because she was a legacy, and that always made her work a little harder to prove herself. But she knew, deep down, that she had earned it too. A Ph.D. in Physics just before her 20th birthday, numerous publications in leading journals, and cutting-edge research programs that were saving the lives of agents in the field while progressing science ahead by leaps and bounds. 

And if she happened to be a protégé of both S.H.I.E.L.D.’s current director and one of its most decorated field members, if she happened to have been raised by its former director and the Cavalry herself, if she held in her genetic code the DNA of two of its most brilliant scientists, well, that was just added bonus for her reputation. 

She shifted the coffee mug to her other hand as she got closer to the Wall of Valor just outside of her classroom. As she always did whenever she passed it, she stretched out two fingers and traced along the names etched as close together as she was always told they had been in life. And then she kept walking, pulling open the classroom door and clearing her throat loudly to settle the students.

“OK,” she announced. “Today, as promised, a lively discussion on time travel and multiverses.”

**

“’Kenzie, ‘Kenzie, Bo Benzie!”

“Hi Daisy, how are you?”

“Banana fana fo fenzie!”

Mack rolled her eyes and turned to focus on the hologram in front of her. “The truly scary thing,” she observed, “is that you’re the boss of literally everyone I know.” 

Daisy laughed, accompanying it with a wry little nod. She suddenly turned serious then, and Mack watched for a moment as she communicated with someone out of range of the hologram’s sensors. A few minutes later, Daisy focused on her again. “So, when are you getting here? Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Mack confirmed, reaching out to grab another shirt so she could finish packing. “I had my last class this afternoon, but I want to run a few more simulations before I leave.”

“OK, but then no work at all once you get here. That’s a direct order. I’m your boss, remember.”

“Ugh,” Mack eventually agreed. “Actually, a vacation sounds really nice. Are Pops and May there yet?” 

“They are. May’s terrifying all the new recruits, and Coulson wants to ‘help’ me ‘improve’ my filing system.”

Mack laughed. “Remind him for me that he’s retired and he hand-picked you to replace him.”

“I remind him that on a daily basis,” Daisy pointed out. “Every afternoon when he calls me for an update. Why won’t you take some of the heat off me again?”

Mack shook her head and threw the last of her clothes in her suitcase. “Because you get the ‘what’s going on in the world of interdimensional espionage?’ questions. I get the ‘meet any nice boys lately?’ and ‘are you ever giving me grandchildren’ questions? Honestly.”

“Great-grandchildren more like,” Daisy scoffed. After a moment, she coyly added, “ _Have_ you met any nice boys lately?”

Mack rolled her eyes in the general direction of the hologram.

“Or girls! No judgment!”

“See you tomorrow, Daisy,” Mack replied, overly cheerful. “End connection.”

The hologram flicked off before Daisy could say anything else, and Mack stepped out of the bedroom. She needed to go run a few more simulations so she could head out for the holidays with a clear conscience. And she wanted to get those done as soon as possible.

**

“Skeleton crew here today,” Mack observed as she leaned in to kiss Billy or Sam’s cheek. “Everyone’s left for the holiday, huh?”

He jumped in surprise and turned to face her, then looked back down at his tablet. “Put on your lanyard. You know better.”

Mack winked and continued down the hall. “Pops here?”

“In the office.”

Mack walked down the familiar, strangely empty halls until she arrived at the office where she had spent many years of her childhood – coloring, doing homework, annoying people and getting underfoot, cuddling, crying, rebelling. She rapped on the open door and stepped in. Then she fought a smile at the two people who didn’t even notice her enter.

“But I don’t want those files in that cabinet. I don’t want a cabinet at all, Coulson, because it’s freaking 2040 and all those files are digitized anyway.”

“Digitized,” Pops muttered. “Just because something’s new doesn’t make it better, you know. Back when I was director – ”

“You had to walk the entire Bifrost. Uphill! Both ways! In the snow!” Mack filled in, and they both turned to face her in excitement.

Mack walked over and squeezed Pops tightly, smiling as he rubbed her back and kissed her cheek. Then she reached over and gave Daisy a quick hug too. 

“What files are these anyway?”

“Um,” Daisy hesitated. “Just…some of the more important cases we’ve had in the last few decades. Cold cases, mostly.”

Mack nodded, feeling a little confused by Daisy’s sudden caginess. But then Pops distracted her by grabbing something off the top of the cabinet. 

“And look what we found.”

“Oh, yeah, look!”

Mack took the picture from his hand. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed as soon as she saw the people in it. “I have a couple of just them, but I don’t think I’ve seen one of the whole team. Who – who am I looking at here?”

They leaned over her shoulder, one on either side. “Well, I’d hope you can recognize May and me,” Pops observed.

“Of course.”

“And Bobbi and I are both as gorgeous as ever,” Daisy added. “Haven’t aged a day.”

“No,” Mack said, lifting the photo closer to stare. “The Koenigs haven’t aged a day. I _need_ their skin care routine.”

After a long pause, Daisy muttered under her breath, “Maybe it’s Maybelline.”

“The only people you probably don’t know are Hunter, Lance Hunter,” Pops said over Daisy, reaching out to point at the man standing next to Bobbi in the picture. 

“Ah, the _infamous_ Lance Hunter.”

“And that’s Trip; he died shortly after this was taken. And…and the guy you were named after, Alphonso Mackenzie.”

Pops’s voice sounded a little bitter, and Mack knew he had never forgiven the man for the tell-all book he had published after he left S.H.I.E.L.D. Bobbi, who was the only one who still secretly kept in touch with him, had explained to her once that the bad blood was mutual, because he had never forgiven Pops for the mission that had… Mack cleared her throat and looked at the picture again, running her thumbs over the two people on either side of the group. Then she smiled sadly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture where he was looking at the camera instead of at her.”

Daisy snorted. “Subtle, he was not.”

Mack smiled. “I look like him, huh?”

“You could be a clone,” Pops agreed. 

Before anyone could say anything else, Koenig’s voice came over the speaker. “Call from the Pentagon in the briefing room.”

Daisy sighed. “It’s Christmas,” she muttered before heading for the door.

“I better go too. They might need me.”

Mack tried not to smirk as Pops followed Daisy out of the room, and then she focused on the picture again. She stared at it for a few more minutes and then placed it on top of the file cabinet with a sad, little sigh. And then she remembered the files in the cabinet, the ones that Daisy clearly didn’t want her to know anything about.

Mack hesitated a moment, and then looked cautiously around the room. She listened for the sound of footsteps. And then she pulled open the top drawer. She ran a finger along the files, skimming the content tabs quickly but not recognizing anything until – 

Until…

She pulled the file out. She had heard the basics, of course, but she had never known all the details. No one ever told her. And even the digitized versions of this file were locked well above her security level. Mack glanced around once more and then carried the file quickly over to the table. She knew she didn’t have time to read it but she could at least take a few pictures with her phone and – 

She gasped and turned her head to the side as soon as she opened the file. The picture on top was not something she ever wanted to see. She took several deep breaths, forcing the bile back down, and then looked again. Her dad wasn’t staring at her mom in that picture, but they were wrapped around each other, clearly in a protective embrace that hadn’t been effective against the gunshot wounds to their heads. It took Mack a moment to realize that the darkness on the ground around them was blood.

She closed her eyes and took one more shaky breath. And then she reached into her pocket and took out her phone. The man who had done this to them was killed by S.H.I.E.L.D. less than a week later. If Daisy still considered this a cold case, then Mack wanted to know why. She began snapping pictures of every page of the report, not bothering to read any of the details yet.

**

It turned out she hadn’t really needed to rush, because they were eating dinner by the time Daisy finally got out of the conference call. May and Bobbi sat on either side of Mack, peppering her with questions and lightly teasing Pops. They all looked up when Daisy entered and sat down with a long-suffering sigh before pulling the serving dishes closer to her empty plate.

“The Order of Vidar are the bane of my existence.”

“Are they acting up again?” Bobbi asked, exasperated. “I really don’t want to fly to Norway until _after_ New Year’s, at least.”

Daisy nodded in agreement. “Hopefully it won’t come to that, but they are rumbling a bit. Almost makes me miss Hydra.”

“Bite your tongue,” Pops said. 

Mack hid a smile at her family’s antics, but then looked up in surprise when she was addressed again.

“Let’s not talk about this right now,” May said. “Mack, tell us about your classes this semester.”

“Oh, I’ve got the freshmen orientation seminar – potentiality, history of S.H.I.E.L.D., blah blah blah. Booooring.”

“Excuse me? Boring?!” Pops interrupted.

Mack ignored him. “But I’m also teaching a fun little senior seminar. Our last class before break was an almost violent debate about time travel.”

“Is it possible?” Bobbi asked. “Because I’d really like to go back and stop myself from making more than one mistake. Two, to be precise.”

Daisy snorted. “How many times did you marry Hunter again?”

Bobbi held up two fingers, and Mack grinned. She had no memories of him, but she’d heard about him her entire life. He was as real to her as her parents seemed, sometimes. 

“Sadly, I’m firmly in the not possible camp,” Mack said apologetically.

“Good,” Pops interjected. “More trouble than it’s worth.”

“You think so?” Daisy asked, receiving solemn nods from Pops and May in return.

“Imagine all the unintentional consequences one little seemingly insignificant moment might have. Too great of a risk,” May opined.

“That’s the beauty of it, though,” Mack argued. “This idea that every single moment spirals off into different outcomes and how everything changes as a result. But here’s my question – what if we’re in the wrong one? What if somehow, for some reason, we should be in a different universe? Why not, then, use time travel to go back and _correct_ that seemingly insignificant moment?”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Pops countered. “We’re in the universe we’re in. That makes it the right one, for us at least. And all the other versions of us are in the right universes for them.”

Mack shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. Besides, like I said, not possible. Although some students came up with this really clever, preliminary idea about Asgardian technology and dimension hopping.”

“Hmm. Well, if I have to go to Norway, just let me know what to confiscate from the Order so you can start your experiments,” Bobbi suggested. 

They all laughed. “Will do,” Mack replied. “But I’ll be focusing on some more practical research first.”

**

But that night, alone in her tiny little bunk, what Mack focused on was the images saved to her phone. She used the hologram technology to project them onto the wall as she read the disturbing, painful reports. She only made it through the first few pages before she gave up. Promising herself that she’d go back to them soon, Mack closed the app and left the room.

She wandered the halls a bit until she spotted a light coming from the common room. Mack snuck her head around the corner and, when she saw Daisy sitting on one side of the couch with a cup of something letting off little tendrils of steam, she smiled and entered the rest of the way.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, Mack,” Daisy responded, shaking her head slightly as she came out of her reverie. 

As Mack sat down, she spotted the group photo from earlier resting on the coffee table. She leaned forward and pulled it closer so she could see it again.

“Still looking at this?”

Daisy smiled softly, sadly. “Just remembering.”

Mack leaned back against the couch, and Daisy shifted so their shoulders touched. “You know, S.H.I.E.L.D. was – is my only real family. And so many people have come and gone, but that group there, they’ll always be the true S.H.I.E.L.D. for me. Coulson, May. Trip. Those three _newbs_. And maybe most of all, your parents.”

“Tell me about them,” Mack requested, something she had asked far too many times over the years. 

Daisy exhaled a sharp little laugh. “You should know the story by heart by now. You tell _me_ about them.”

Mack was silent for a long moment, and then she began talking. She did know the story by heart, and it felt almost like a mantra as she recited the bullet points of their relationship. “They met at the Academy, the two youngest graduates ever. But they didn’t talk for months. Mom thought Dad hated her, and Dad kept trying to think of something to say that would impress her. They were paired up in chem lab and realized how great of a team they were. And then they were always by each other’s side – at the Academy, at Sci-Ops, on the Bus, here at the Playground. Best friends, lab partners. It wasn’t until Hydra attacked and everything changed that things changed for them too. They realized how much they loved each other, and after things settled a bit, were finally brave enough to be more. Very soon later, they got a little surprise in me. And even though they didn’t want to go, they at least had each other in the end. Did I forget anything?”

Daisy seemed to hesitate for a bit. “No, that sums it up,” she finally said.

“They were happy, weren’t they?”

“They…had their problems, like any couple,” Daisy admitted, which wasn’t a surprise to Mack, but not something she had ever really heard mentioned before. “But they were happy. Hard to tell sometimes, ‘cause they bickered like cats and dogs, but that was mostly just flirting.”

Mack sighed. 

“I’m sorry you never knew them,” Daisy added quietly. “I know how it feels.”

“Yeah,” Mack acknowledged. They looked at each other, and after a brief moment of shared pain, Mack smiled. “But you had a family in S.H.I.E.L.D.,” she pointed out. “And I know how that feels.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get too excited about the earlier than planned update, because the next one will probably take longer than I'd like!
> 
> Also, _casually_ adding a tag above...


	3. Chapter Two

_Fitz yawned as the Playground’s system slowly switched from night to day. And then he smiled, looking down at Jemma curled up and sleeping comfortably, arms wrapped low around his waist and head resting on his shoulder. He had been unable to sleep, afraid to wake up and realize it had been another vivid hallucination._

_After several minutes of quite delightful reconciliation the day before, they eventually acknowledged they needed to get back to their respective duties. Jemma had begged that they could talk more and Fitz readily agreed, kissing her three or four more times before finally walking back towards the garage._

_He’d only looked over his shoulder twice. And he would have felt sillier about that if she hadn’t been looking back at him the second time. She had blushed then, turning around and immediately lifting her hand to her hair in the new little nervous tic she had developed. Fitz couldn’t stop his grin._

_But when Mack had asked what Simmons wanted, Fitz didn’t know if he should say anything yet, or what exactly there was to say. He had tried to pass it off as some sort of science conversation until Mack complimented him on his new shade of lipstick. And then he had quickly and silently returned to work, the burning flush on his face doing little to stop the giddiness he was feeling._

_It had been a long day, and Fitz’ concentration was shot through most of it, and then finally: a soft knock on his door after most of the others had gone to bed. Jemma stood, rather apprehensively, on the other side when he opened the door, but her nerves seemed to disappear as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through the opening. As soon as the door closed, he changed course and pushed her back up against it. Her hands went into his hair, and he was pretty sure he made a whimpering sound when their lips met._

_But they did talk eventually, wrapped up in each other’s arms on his bed. They talked about everything that had been unsaid for so long. Fitz stuttered and Jemma vacillated and they both cried and, surprisingly, sometimes they both laughed. They were stubborn on some things and apologized for others, and sometime very early in the morning, Fitz accepted they’d actually be OK again. He had his best friend back. When he observed that, Jemma tilted up to look at him, whispered “more than that” and kissed him again._

_And so it was with a bit of déjà vu that he watched her as she woke up, leaned backwards to look up at him and smiled._

_“Good morning,” he murmured._

_“Haven’t you slept?” she replied, lifting one hand to rub at her eye._

_Fitz shrugged._

_“You’ve been watching me this whole time?”_

_Fitz shrugged again. He looked down at her, his lips twitching into a smile. “You’re very beautiful when you’re asleep.”_

_“What about when I’m awake?” she asked with a grin._

_“Eh.”_

_Jemma smacked him half-heartedly in the side, and Fitz chuckled as he slid down on the bed to pull her into another kiss. He wondered - he was pretty sure it was far too soon to go too far, but he wanted to – he wanted. She sighed as he moved his lips from her mouth and worked his way down her neck, and she pressed her hand against his shoulder to pull him closer._

_“Fitz.” His name slipped out breathless, almost unintentional, and he shivered at the sound._

_His hand snuck lower, shaking lightly as he teased at the hem of her shirt. Just as he worked up the courage to lift it and reveal her skin, his alarm went off. They pulled away and stared at each other, mouths red and wet, eyes slightly glazed, breath coming fast. Jemma bit her lip, and Fitz’ eyes followed the movement._

_“Mor-morning briefing in, um, 30 minutes,” he said._

_She swallowed. “We should continue this conversation later.”_

_Fitz nodded rapidly._

**

Fitz yawned as the Playground’s system slowly switched from night to day. And then he smiled, looking up as Simmons walked into the garage.

“Haven’t you slept?” she asked.

“Have you?” was his only reply.

She sighed and sat down next to him at the table. “No,” she admitted. “The girl, Mack – and isn’t that just what we need, another Mack around here to confuse things – she hasn’t woken up yet. Some of her readings are a bit weird too.”

“Weird how?”

“Like…well, like she’s been…microwaved.” Fitz laughed sharply in surprise and maybe a little confusion, and Jemma shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it. Just her body seems like it was overexcited and is starting to calm down.”

“It might have something to do with this,” Fitz observed, sliding the item they had recovered closer to Jemma.

“What is it?”

“No clue. But look – Asgardian symbols or something like them.”

Jemma hummed thoughtfully as she leaned in to inspect the bowl or whatever it was, and Fitz couldn’t help but hold his breath at how close she was.

“Oh, hey. What, um, what did you want to talk about ye-yesterday?” he asked, once he was able to form words again.

Jemma turned to look at him then, and they held each other’s gaze for a long moment. Fitz felt his heart start to race, and then Jemma looked away quickly.

“It’s…I guess, it’s not important. It can wait. I don’t know.”

“Simmons?”

“I better go check on Mack,” she blurted, hopping off her chair and walking away without another word.

**

Mack snuffled a bit but refused to open her eyes. The room was dark, and that meant it was still sleeping time. She felt weirdly sore, like she’d exercised heavily the day before, and a little ill too. Maybe she was hungover. She swallowed then breathed deeply, repositioning herself in an attempt to get more comfortable.

Before she could fall asleep again, she heard the door to her room _snick_ open, and she turned her head to the side. Squinting through the dim light, she almost didn’t recognize him at first. His body language was too distinctive, though.

“Pops?” she mumbled. “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m not sure who Pops is,” he said, sounding amused and _different_ somehow, “but I’m here to see how you’re feeling.”

He got closer, and Mack could see him clearly. That’s when she remembered. He sounded different because he was different. He looked so young, the way he did in pictures, even younger than she remembered from when she was a small child. 

She had traveled back in time. 

Mack struggled for a response. “I feel a little hungover,” she finally said. 

He sat down in the chair next to the bed, offering her a small smile. Mack pushed herself up and leaned against the pillows, then tried to fix her hair a bit so she looked like a trustworthy and innocent person. In all her planning, she had never really thought about what she’d say to them. Obviously not the truth – there was no telling whether his younger self would hold the same opinions about time travel as his older self, and she had seen enough movies to know interfering too much with your own past could have dangerous consequences. But she’d have to convince them to keep her around long enough to do _some_ interfering. She’d just have to think on her feet.

“My name is Phil Coulson,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. You might have heard about us on the news.”

“Um,” Mack hedged, trying to remember what the public perception of S.H.I.E.L.D. was at the time – and really, she wasn’t entirely sure what time she was in, anyway. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I was wondering if you might tell me what happened, as much as you can remember.”

Mack’s eyes widened slightly. Why had she not come up with a plan? 

Mostly because she didn’t really believe this would work, even with the proof that it had before. 

She forced a laugh. “I don’t even remember what the date is.”

He smiled again. “January the fifth, 2015.”

She nearly choked on her own saliva. She wasn’t even born yet. How had she managed to flub the calculations so badly? Did that diploma on her wall mean nothing?! 

“Let’s start simple,” he continued, possibly misinterpreting her response. “What’s your name?”

“Mack,” she said, happy that she could answer something without thinking too much about it.

“Is that short for something? What’s your last name?”

Shit.

And then suddenly, she had a reprieve. The door to the room opened again. It was her mom. Her _mom_. Mack couldn’t help but stare, following her with her eyes as she walked into the room. She almost forgot Pops – _Coulson_ – was there. She was so pretty, so – 

“Are you bothering my patient?” she asked with a smile. 

“Just trying to find out what happened,” he responded, standing and stepping out of her way.

Mack tried not to react too strongly when her mom stopped just next to her and gestured in a friendly sort of way before leaning in with a penlight. Swallowing, Mack stared ahead, cooperating as best she could as her mom began her examination and wondering why she was the one doing it rather than a medical doctor. 

“I don’t know if you remember me from earlier,” she said. “My name’s Jemma.”

“Yeah,” Mack breathed out. She quickly cleared her throat, and then responded more firmly. “Yes, I remember.” 

“And you are?” Pops – _Coulson_ – asked, prompting her. She supposed it was too naïve to hope he would have forgotten she hadn’t answered.

“Mackenzie,” she answered, hesitating for a moment as she grasped for straws, and then – perfect! “Leopold.”

Her mom – and she supposed she should start forcing herself to think of her as Jemma – laughed shortly. “Oh, that’s funny,” she observed. “There’s just no name we can use to keep you straight.”

“I’m sorry?”

 _Jemma_ shook her head as she turned off the penlight and slipped it into the pocket of her lab coat. “We already have a Mackenzie who goes by Mack, and a Leopold who would probably start a riot if he heard anyone being called that.”

“Oh. Ha ha,” Mack replied, forcing a laugh. 

“We’ll just have to think of something,” Coulson replied. “In the meantime, I’d like you to take a brief…exam, of sorts.”

Mack tilted her head questioningly. Judging by Coulson’s bland smile in return, her answers had not relaxed him. She wondered what exactly he meant by _exam_.

**

It was almost too good to be true.

Mack sat comfortably, the straps around her perhaps a little too tight. She held eye contact with Koenig – she wasn’t entirely sure which one, and she was still amazed at how they looked exactly the same nearly 30 years apart. He looked down at his output and then back up at her with a serious expression.

“Just some easy questions first, to establish a baseline.”

“OK.”

“What is your full name?”

“Mackenzie Leopold.”

“Eye color?”

“Blue.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“No.”

“Please list your immediate family.”

“Only child; my parents are deceased.”

“What is the difference between an egg and a rock?”

Mack paused for effect. “What an odd question,” she said. “There’s so many differences. Why would anyone want to compare the two?”

Koenig shook his head, clearly not up for that discussion today. He sighed. “You wash up on a deserted island alone. Sitting on the sand is a box. What is in that box?”

“Hmm. A water filter. And sunblock.”

“Sunblock?”

“I burn easy.”

He stared at her, possibly suspicious about her quick and almost flippant answers. Mack redoubled her efforts to read as innocent.

“OK. Why were you in the park yesterday?”

“Went for a walk.”

“And the item we found near you, is it yours?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. What item? That circular thing?”

“Yes.”

“No, it wasn’t mine.”

“Did you touch it or deal with it in anyway?”

“No. Well, yes. I went up to look at it, and then nudged it off the trail with my foot.”

“And then what happened?”

“Then…I woke up here. I don’t really understand what’s going on.”

Koenig stared down at his output for a while, his brow slightly furrowed. Mack thought back over her answers, breathed in and out slowly, tried not to worry as she waited. Not that there was anything to worry about. She had been in this chair more times than she could count.

Sam still had no idea who broke his model of the Millennium Falcon. 

“A few more questions,” he responded. “Then I’m sure Director Coulson will explain everything.”

She exhaled expressively. “OK.”

“What’s your job?”

“I’m a physicist.” 

“You live here in town?”

“Just visiting.”

He opened his mouth to ask yet another question and Mack snuck a glance at the clock in the corner.

**

Fitz steepled his fingers in front of his face, concerned and curious as he listened to the others talk.

“No Mackenzie Leopold on record,” Skye informed them. “Not one that matches her description anyway.”

“Hmm,” Fitz observed. To be honest, part of him was still thinking about the item that accompanied her into the Playground. The Asgardian symbols were – 

“Well,” Koenig chimed in as he walked inside the briefing room. “She passed Orientation.”

He didn’t sound happy about it, and Fitz’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at him.

“But?” Coulson prompted.

“She passed it with flying colors,” Koenig explained. “I’ve never seen anyone give answers that barely blipped on the read-out like that. And her answers were masterfully vague too.”

Coulson was quiet for a long moment. Finally, he closed the program on the tablet in front of him. “Well, then,” he observed. “Best we keep our guest around for a while. Until we figure out what exactly that thing is, anyway.”


	4. Chapter Three

Mack took a deep breath, steeling herself. She blinked rapidly a couple times and then pressed the button on her phone. Once again, the pictures she had taken were projected onto the wall of her bunk. She’d make it through the report this time. She owed them that much. 

She started from the beginning again, reviewing the basic facts. It was January 2016, only a few months after she was born and her parents had gotten married. There was even a note in the file about that – her mom’s first time back in the field. Mack, her namesake, had registered an official complaint about Pops sending them both out needlessly. It seemed her parents themselves had dismissed that, arguing there was nothing to be concerned about and implying, somewhat tongue in cheek, that Mack was overprotective and just liked to officially complain about Pops. 

And really, they were right. There should have been nothing to worry about. Mack had learned strategy and risk assessment from May and Bobbi, and she herself would have approved the mission. A simple forensic recovery following an electric surge, and collecting an 084 for further analysis. Nothing to it. They’d done it a thousand times. 

But this time was different. Mack swallowed thickly as she reached down to swipe the screen. The next page popped up, and she couldn’t stop the glare she leveled at the man in the photograph. The man who had been there, waiting. One of the earliest members of the Order of Vidar. The man who had…killed them. There were no witnesses who could say exactly what happened, and according to the report, an agent named Skye only heard bits and pieces over comms before she’d managed to make it from the Quinjet to the site.

The man had already disappeared. And all Skye had found was…them. Embracing each other, even in death. There was obviously nothing she could do. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. had hunted him down mere days later. There had been another, smaller electric surge, and the team descended to find the man ranting in anger and frustration over some device. He put up a short-lived fight during which he gleefully admitted to the murders, and it was Mack himself who put a bullet between his eyes, in almost the exact location her father had been shot. And that moment of violence had been the last straw for Mack; he quit S.H.I.E.L.D. the next day.

That moment of violence had also been a catalyst for the fledgling members of the Order. They rallied around the symbolic martyr, starting the ascent into the major threat they were to that very day. 

Mack sighed. She was still confused. Although it was unclear why exactly he had shot her parents, there was no doubt it had been him. Although the group had used his death for their own purposes, all signs indicated he had been working alone. Mack couldn’t understand why Daisy had this filed with cold cases. The best explanation she could come up with, and one she certainly could sympathize with, was that Daisy just couldn’t let go. She wanted to be able to find some reason, some explanation.

But Mack had accepted early in life that no explanation would matter. She had never known her parents. Knowing why wouldn’t change that.

She looked down at her phone and considered closing the file. There were still more pages to the report, but in the end, what _was_ the point of looking through them? Knowing all the details for the sake of knowing? Why put herself through that?

But, almost involuntarily, she reached down and swiped to the next page. This one contained details of the 084 case, more details than Mack had ever known before. According to Pops' notes, the electric surge was familiar in style to when Thor or Lady Sif had shown up. Asgardian in signature, but not quite _right_. 

And the item they had recovered when they had found him was a small bowl or disc. It was covered in symbols, again Asgardian but _not_ , and Mack noticed one in particular, very similar to the Asgardian sign for _vengeance_. It had been carved into the device and the walls of the room and tattooed on his neck. It had become the very symbol of the Order. 

Mack flipped back to look at the picture of _him_ again. She focused on the tattoo, staring at it almost blindly for several minutes. She shook her head and prepared to continue reading. But before she could swipe ahead, something else caught her eye. 

She leaned in closer, squinting to focus on the detail. The tattoo seemed to be covering up something. She bent over the phone, messing with the app settings to zoom in and reformat the picture. Mack looked up again, leaning forward to trace her fingers along the projected image. She slowly mapped out the pattern of the underlying, almost hidden scar. 

The very distinctive scar.

She had known so many people with them. Only her relative isolation growing up in the Playground saved her from having some of her own. 

The 2025 pox epidemic had been devastating.

“It can’t be,” Mack whispered.

**

Mack didn’t sleep at all that night. She tossed and turned, trying to make sense of her discovery, trying to find some reasonable explanation, trying to convince herself that she hadn’t really seen what she thought she had.

But it didn’t work. And by the morning, she knew she wouldn’t be able to forget it. She had to know for sure. It was pure luck that, when she _casually_ meandered her way down towards evidence storage, she discovered Julie working the desk and leaning over a crossword puzzle in concentration. Mack unbuttoned her shirt one more button than she really felt comfortable with and readjusted the “girls” a bit. 

She wasn’t proud of herself, by any means. But desperate times called for skanking it up. 

“Hey! Julie! How are you?”

She fumbled her pen a little as she looked up. “Mack! Hi! I heard you were here!”

Mack noted the blush rising on Julie’s cheeks. She really was sweet, and Mack almost felt guilty. It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered it, after all. But Julie was a tad too old for her, and too eager, and…how to put it…too intellectually challenged by the Monday morning crossword puzzle. And besides, Mack had far more important things on her mind. She’d have to play her cards just right though.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Yeah, yeah! You too.”

“Hey, so, Pops – Coulson, that is – he wanted me to check on some old cases, see if I could find anything new on them. You mind pulling the boxes out for me?”

Julie beamed, pushing her paper aside and reaching out for the tablet near her elbow. “Of course, Mack. What’s the case number?”

Mack leaned one arm against the counter, trying to seem casual and indifferent. “It was an 084. Case number…ahhhh…” Mack pretended to think. “3728 – no, 9.”

Julie dutifully tapped in the number, and then her face fell. “Mack, I’m sorry, but that’s above your security level.”

“Oh, I know,” Mack nodded, maybe a little too quickly. “But Coulson did ask. He said he’d flag it.”

Julie checked again, then shook her head apologetically.

Mack sighed, turning slightly so both elbows were resting on the table. If it happened to accentuate her cleavage a bit, then…

“I suppose he must have forgotten. I guess I’ll go remind him.”

“Um…” Julie hesitated. “No! No, that’s silly. I mean, obviously it should be fine. I’ll just go grab the box.”

Mack grinned broadly. “You’re the best, Julie.”

She stumbled a bit as she walked away, tripping over her own feet because she couldn’t take her eyes off Mack. Eventually, she turned, disappearing down a hall of the archives. Mack let her head drop onto her folded arms.

She was a horrible person.

**

But she was a horrible person with a box of evidence. She snuck it into the lab, thankful for the holidays which had scattered the typical worker bees. There was no one in the room, and Mack moved quickly. The first thing she pulled out was a biohazard container that, according to the inventory, contained samples of blood and tissue. Mack began the process of thawing them enough to run the different tests, reminding herself that as slow as it seemed, it was nothing compared to the primitive techniques and equipment of even a few years ago. She was just nervous and wanted to be done with this before anyone caught her.

While the machines were doing their thing, Mack pulled out the clear plastic box housing the bowl. She was hesitant to take it out yet, but she stared at it for a long time, memorizing the different symbols etched into it. And then she reviewed the lab reports filed away in the box. The original analyses were performed by an Anne Weaver, a name that Mack barely recognized from Academy lore, with assistance from Bobbi. That was understandable, of course; Mack was well aware of Bobbi’s biology background, and they would have been short-handed in the lab considering…well, considering. The report provided no useful information – no DNA matches were identified and nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. The blood and tissue were both human, and the gun he used was a standard pistol with the serial number filed off. 

Mack sighed, preparing to look through the rest of the box to see if there was anything else. And just then, the computer beeped at her. Mack kicked off the floor with her feet, the chair spinning slightly as she rolled over to the screen. This time, the report was much more informative. Antibodies for the 2025 virus confirmed. And…

No exact DNA matches, but his mitochondrial DNA sequence was in the system as was the genetic data from his Y chromosome. 

Without a doubt, he must be descended from the couple who were the leaders of the Order.

Mack exhaled sharply, her vision blurring a bit. It was almost impossible to believe – time travel was real. 

The man who killed her parents had come from the future to do it.

**

Mack breathed out slowly, settling into the opening stance. Then she breathed in, preparing herself.

“May?”

The expression May shot her, as she turned and bent her knee, was typical May – unreadable except for the slight annoyance at the disruption to their training. Mack copied the movement and then pressed on, undeterred. 

“Do you remember what sort of things my parents were working on when they – well, you know.”

May stepped back, swooping her hands down slowly. Mack shifted at the same time, thankful that the next position required her to face away from May. She wasn’t sure she could maintain plausible innocent curiosity for this conversation. 

“They always had several investigations going,” was May’s eventual response. “S.H.I.E.L.D. had very limited resources and staff back then.”

“What were they working on?” Mack repeated rather curtly, then exhaled slowly to calm down. “Specifically.”

“Why?”

“I’m just – ” Mack turned and adjusted her balance. “Curious, I guess. No one ever talks about what happened. I’m tired of not talking about it.”

May sighed, and Mack turned to face her, both of them giving up on the exercises. 

“What happened to them wasn’t connected to any of their cases,” May stated.

“You know that for sure?” Mack asked, trying not to let on that she had read the details herself.

“Yes,” May confirmed. “The guy who killed them was connected to the Order, but he was apparently working alone. We don’t know why he killed them, but we know that much. He wasn’t even a major player before then; we had no intel on him.”

Mack swallowed. “But were they working on anything that _might_ have been related?”

May exhaled, then walked over to the counter and grabbed her water bottle. “Yes. I suppose one case. There had been a series of explosions. Multiple fatalities. FitzSimmons were trying to figure out where they were getting the materials. Never did figure it out before they… But we were always pretty sure the Brevigs were involved somehow. If we could’ve pinned it on them, we could’ve put them in jail for life.”

Mack was silent for a long time, thinking. When she finally looked back up at May, she was met with a rather suspicious and penetrating look. 

“So many things would have changed if that had happened,” Mack observed. “Everything would have been different. Better.”

May hummed noncommittally. “Maybe. Maybe something else would have happened. Maybe everything would have been worse. Careful what you wish for.”

Mack nodded. “I guess,” she murmured. 

Flipping a towel over her shoulder, May stepped closer and ran a hand down Mack’s back as she leaned in and kissed her temple. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she reminded her. “You can’t change the past.”

“No,” Mack agreed. “No, I know.”

**

Three days later, Mack returned the box of evidence to Julie. She sighed in relief – and gratitude for her new bright red lipstick – when Julie put it back on the shelf without double-checking the inventory. She didn’t know how she’d explain the very realistic 3D copy of the bowl packed in there instead of the real thing.

The actual bowl was slipped into her suitcase. She hugged everyone goodbye, wanting to remind them how much she cherished growing up with them, how they were the best godparents and family anyone could ask for, how this wasn’t about _that_. But she didn’t want to tip any of them off. And for that very reason, she also didn’t want to linger over her farewells, uncertain if the attempt would kill her or trap her in some other time. So she forced herself to behave naturally, teasing Bobbi and Daisy and humoring Pops as he gave her multiple reminders and recommendations. 

And when she returned to the Academy, she called a few of her students into her office to discuss their ideas about time travel again. She suggested that they work on a side project expanding on their hypotheses under her supervision. Just for a theoretical exercise. It could make for a good paper, at any rate.

Combining their work with her own research, she was ready in only two short months. She hooked up the device to a Gill battery. If that wasn’t enough of a power surge to work it, she didn’t know what would be. Mack took several deep breaths, wrapped her hand tightly around the edge of the bowl, and flipped the switch.


	5. Chapter Four

_Jemma felt her pulse pick up as she and Skye turned the corner and she saw Fitz standing at the other end of the hall. He was talking with Mack and Hunter, leaning back with one foot kicked up against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. Jemma felt a little silly and immature noting how he had filled out in the last year or so, admiring the slight definition of muscle hidden beneath his layers. She didn’t know if it had to do first with field missions and then his recovery, or if he always would have grown into how he looked now. She forgot sometimes that he was no longer the scrawny 17-year-old she had first known, that she herself had become a woman in the years since then as well. They weren’t children anymore, physically or emotionally._

_They were adults. A man and woman._

_Jemma exhaled slowly, feeling the blush rise on her cheeks, as she contemplated the implications of that particular observation. They had spent the last few days kissing at every opportunity. She had felt his hands on her body, and ran her own through his hair. They had slept together – literally – and woken up in each other’s arms. They had shared secrets and truths and achieved a new level of intimacy and trust in their relationship._

_But they hadn’t done…that…yet. Jemma didn’t know if they were ready to or when they ever would be. But God, she wanted to. And the teen in her couldn’t help but giggle in mortification and gape in shock at the lust she felt burning inside herself for Leo Fitz, of all people. But the woman in her wanted to press him up against the wall and drop to her knees and – wanted to feel him inside her, thrusting hot and hard until he – wanted to feel his new, unfairly attractive stubble scrape against the inside of her thighs as he buried his face in –_

_Fitz looked up then. He smiled at her with just his eyes, crinkles forming in the corners. Jemma stifled a groan._

_Skye glanced over at her, sort of confused and suspicious, but before she could say anything, Coulson called out from behind them. They both turned to face him, and Coulson waved slightly to indicate Skye should follow him. As she did, Jemma faced forward and started walking again. She tried to appear normal as she passed the three men, but she couldn’t help sliding her gaze over towards Fitz. He responded by uncrossing his arms just as she went by him. His fingers oh-so-accidentally skated against her wrist and Jemma suppressed a shiver._

**

Jemma felt her pulse pick up as she and Skye turned the corner and she saw Fitz standing at the other end of the hall. He was talking with Mack and Hunter, leaning back with one foot kicked up against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. Jemma felt a pang as she realized that, in the past, it’d be her he felt so comfortable with, her he’d seek out for conversation when he needed a break – not that he ever needed to seek far because they were always so close. Inseparable for years, since they were essentially children. She could have just reached out and touched him whenever she desired.

Jemma exhaled slowly, feeling the blush rise on her cheeks, as she contemplated that particular thought. How she desired to touch him. How she wished she could do it whenever, as often as she wanted to. How even something as simple as resting her hand on his elbow or shoulder seemed impossible these days. 

Fitz looked up then, and then away just as quickly. Jemma stifled a sigh.

Skye glanced over at her, sort of confused and suspicious, but before she could say anything, Coulson called out from behind them. They both turned to face him, and Coulson waved slightly to indicate Skye should follow him. As she did, Jemma faced forward and started walking again. She tried to appear normal as she passed the three men, and she stared dead ahead so she didn’t accidentally make eye contact with Fitz. He held himself stiffly, hardly even breathing as she went by.

**

“Whatcha need, boss?” Skye asked as she followed Coulson down the hall in the opposite direction. She spared one backwards glance out of the corner of her eye, and let out one internal sigh at the lack of interaction between FitzSimmons. She wished there was something she could do to make them OK again. It was so obvious how much they missed each other.

“Do you mind taking on Ms. Leopold? Do your asset evaluation thing and convince her to stick around for a while. And maybe see what you can find out about her.”

“Sure thing, but we _need_ to find a new name for that; I told you that before.”

Coulson didn’t bother responding, reaching around her to pull open the door to the small room typically used for agents recovering from injury or illness. If she was going to be part of the team – or at least treated like part of the team until they knew what she was up to – they’d have to find a real bunk for her. At the moment, the only empty room was between FitzSimmons, so she hoped this Mack didn’t mind awkward silences as much as the other Mack seemed to. 

“Wait here a second,” Coulson suggested, already sounding like a man with a plan.

**

Mack looked up at the sound of the door opening, but she didn’t feel any sort of relief when _Coulson_ entered. It was surprising to her, really, how intimidating she found him. It was Pops! But it wasn’t, and Mack was forced to remind herself that if this worked, if she actually saved them, then she would never see _her_ Pops again. Mack swallowed roughly around the sudden lump in her throat.

“Ms. Leopold,” he said.

“It’s Doctor.” The response was immediate and involuntary.

“Excuse me. Dr. Leopold,” Coulson continued, pulling a chair over and sitting down in front of her. He crossed one leg over the other and placed his hands in his lap. Mack was more than familiar with this overly casual pose. She resisted the urge to narrow her eyes in suspicion.

“How would you like to make it Agent Leopold?” he continued.

Mack’s heart thumped. Play it cool. Play. It. Cool.

“Huh?”

“We could use a physicist on the team.”

Mack blinked. She could tell he was expecting her to refuse at first. Not surprising, if that was his usual pitch to prospective agents. 

“What will you do to me if I say no?” she gambled.

Coulson fought a little smile. “Nothing. We’ll keep you here a few days to make sure you have no lasting side effects, then send you home.”

Mack was silent for a few moments, then inhaled deeply. “I’ll think about it.”

Coulson stood then, pushing the chair back to where it had been. “Good. Let me introduce you to Skye. She’ll show you around, introduce you to everyone. Ask her anything you’d like about working here.”

_Skye_. The agent who had been there, the one who had first seen their bodies, the one who had heard their shouts and the sound of gunfire over comms and had been helpless to do anything. Mack almost felt like she was going to puke.

Coulson leaned out of the room briefly, and when he returned, a younger woman followed him. Mack tilted her head to see around him, and then she really felt like she was going to puke.

No wonder Daisy refused to remove the file from the cold cases cabinet.

**

“OK,” Dai – Skye was saying, a cheerful smile on her face as she led Mack quickly down the hall. “You’d be in the science division, so why don’t we start there? You’ve already met Jemma anyway.”

“Yes,” Mack confirmed. “She’s a – a good doctor.”

“Well, she’ll be happy to hear you think so, because she’s always kind of winging it a bit. She’s not really a medical doctor.”

“Oh?” Mack asked, pretending to be surprised.

“We have to make do with what we have,” D – Skye explained. “She’s really a biochemist though.”

Mack hummed. “And – and what other kinds of scientists work here?”

“Well, there’s all sorts of underlings in the lab with her, but the other major one is Fitz. I’ll introduce you to him after we see the lab. He’ll probably want to ask you about that bowl thing anyway.”

Mack nearly stopped dead in her tracks, but she forced herself to keep walking. “He’s…not in the lab?”

“Fitz? No. Long story. He works in the garage with Mack. The – the other Mack. There’s another Mack.”

“I’ve heard,” Mack murmured, feeling increasingly confused.

She wondered if this was one of those _problems_ that Daisy alluded to the last time they talked about her mom and dad’s relationship. There were a lot of details apparently left out of the fairy tale she was told as a kid. But there was no time to try and figure out what this long story was and why it apparently meant her parents didn’t work together at the moment. Instead, she simply followed D – Skye into the lab, trying to act like she didn’t know anything about the room and like her eyes weren’t immediately drawn to the woman standing in the center of it. 

“Simmons,” Skye called out, dragging the name out in a teasing manner. 

“Oh! Hello,” she replied, placing a clipboard on the table near her and smiling in welcome before walking closer. “Mack, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, thanks,” Mack said quickly, smiling in return. 

“So, have you heard?” Skye said, a conspiratorial wink almost audible in her voice. “Dr. Leopold here might actually join our team long-term.”

“ _Really?_ ” her mom drawled, playing along. These people were supposed to be spies, for goodness’ sake.

“Yes, and I actually have to go speak with May, so did you want to take over the tour? Show her around the lab?” There was a short but noticeable pause. “Introduce her to Fitz.”

Jemma looked up at Skye in surprise, her mouth falling open a bit as she struggled for a response. Mack would almost find it funny, if she could figure out why the prospect of speaking to her father was causing her mother so much anxiety. 

Skye didn’t give her any time to object, though, slipping out the door with a little wave at them both. Mack turned to Jemma expectantly. 

Even though they had a pleasant conversation while Jemma showed her around the lab, her reluctance and awkwardness came back the closer they walked to the garage. And Mack herself was beginning to feel excited and a little scared. She was about to meet her dad for the first time, that she could remember anyway. She was about to speak to him, hear his voice. She slowed a bit, trailing behind Jemma as they entered the garage. 

There he was. Mack recognized him immediately. Even if she hadn’t seen him in dozens of pictures, there would be no doubt. Pops was right; they could be clones. Mack swallowed thickly, blinked rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. 

And then she forced her gaze away, looking to Jemma for guidance. Her mom stared back at her, an unreadable expression on her face that quickly disappeared when their eyes met. 

“Fitz!” she called out, her voice sounding strange. 

He startled a bit, dropping the piece of tech in his hands as he whipped his head to look at Jemma. His expression was as equally fearful and awkward as hers had become. And then he glanced over to Mack, shifting to a more welcoming half-smile.

“Hi.”

“Fitz,” Jemma began, rather formally. They walked closer even as Fitz stepped around from behind his table. “This is Mackenzie Leopold.”

He reached his hand out and Mack met him partway, shaking it and forcing herself not to throw her arms around him in a hug. 

“Mack,” she nearly whispered.

“This is Leopold Fitz,” Jemma added, waving her hand somewhat stiffly at him.

He gave Mack a teasing sort of grimace, even winked a bit as he shook his head. “Just Fitz.”

Mack couldn’t help but grin, and it took her maybe longer than was socially appropriate to let go of his hand. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he stepped away, abortively tried to cross his arms in front of his chest, and then moved them to rest his hands on his lower back instead.

“So you’re – you’re sticking around?” he asked, eyes darting back and forth between Jemma and Mack. 

“Maybe,” Mack confirmed even as Jemma nodded. 

“Mack’s a physicist.”

“Oh!” her dad – Fitz – seemed surprised and then pleased. “Yeah? Good. You could h – help with the, ah, the…”

His brow furrowed and Mack felt her confusion from earlier starting to deepen again. He rolled one hand in a circle, then snapped his fingers twice.

“You can _help_ with the…”

“Bowl thing?” Jemma whispered hesitantly.

“No.” He sounded angry and frustrated. 

“The…I don’t know, Fitz. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you’re working on right now.”

He sighed loudly, then tilted his head back. Mack was surprised to see what looked like tears in his eyes as he stared at the ceiling. “You can help with – ”

“The thrusters on the Quinjet.”

Mack whirled to face the owner of the new voice. He was the largest man she’d ever seen, and she recognized him immediately from the group picture. The other Mack.

“Yeah. Yes. Thank you.”

Mack faced her parents again, shocked to see the differences in their reactions. Her dad looked grateful, happy, and suddenly more relaxed. He smiled up at the other man and almost unconsciously shifted closer to him.

Her mother did a very poor job of hiding her glare. 

“Hi,” he said, holding out his hand. Mack was rather amused to see her own was dwarfed inside his when she shook it. Hardly surprising though, since neither of her parents had given her _tall_ genes. “I’m Mack.”

“I’m Mack…too,” she responded with a little laugh.

He shook his head, his grin rather infectious to all in the conversation except perhaps her mother. “That’s just not gonna work.”

“We can call you, um, Big Mack.”

The little smirk on her dad’s face at his own joke was almost too smug, and Mack had a feeling the nickname was going to stick.

“Yeah? How long it take you to think of that one, Turbo?”

“We should get going,” Jemma interrupted, perhaps a bit too loudly. She shifted her gaze uneasily between the other three and then turned on her heel without another word.

Before Mack followed her, she glanced at her dad one more time. The humor had disappeared, and his expression was, for lack of a better word, distraught. He looked down at his hands, then back up at Jemma’s retreating back. Then he looked to Mack again and forced a smile.

“See you later,” he muttered.

“Yeah, bye.” Mack’s voice almost broke. “I’ll – I’ll help you with that jet later.”

His smile was more sincere as he nodded in response, and then Mack hurried after Jemma.

**

“What’s, um, what’s…wrong with him?” Mack winced even as she finished the question.

Jemma turned her head sharply in Mack’s direction, the glare she had seen earlier out in full force now. “Nothing.”

“I just – I didn’t – I – ”

Jemma sighed and stopped walking. Turning her body towards Mack, she glanced back towards the garage while wrapping one arm around her waist and lifting her other hand to tuck her hair back. “He…” she began, unshed tears choking her. She paused, then cleared her throat.

“There’s nothing _wrong_ with him,” she repeated, making eye contact with Mack again. “He’s just…recovering.”

“From what?” Mack whispered.

“When – when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and Hydra attacked, he…was caught in the crossfire.”

“He was _shot_?!” Mack’s shout echoed through the hall.

“No,” Jemma quickly replied, reaching one hand out in a shushing motion. “He nearly drowned.”

Mack was speechless. She blinked a couple times, then shook her head quickly. “That’s not any better.”

“No,” Jemma agreed. “No, not really. But he was without oxygen for several minutes and – and was – was in a coma for a while, and had some... well, some brain damage.”

Mack was unable to breathe, pretty sure she was about to have some brain damage of her own from the shock. How?! How could they _not_ tell her about this?

“Anyway,” Jemma gave her a wobbly smile and looked away again. “I’m not that kind of doctor, and I can’t fix him, and he won’t let me anyway, even if I could. Let’s continue the tour, shall we?”

She started walking again, and Mack followed her a few moments later. Her brain spun with the new information – about her dad and perhaps most importantly about her parents. It seemed she had been lied to her whole life.

They weren’t inseparable nearly from day one, and they hadn’t realized how much they loved each other when Hydra fell. They couldn’t find words to speak to each other, figuratively or literally. They couldn’t even be in the same room as each other. 

Based on her quick calculations, Mack should be conceived in less than a month. Clearly this mission was direr than she thought. She didn’t need to just save their lives. She’d have to make sure hers even began.


	6. Chapter Five

_“Soooooo.”_

_Fitz glanced up at Skye. Her expression was a little too ominously eager. His eyes darted back and forth as he looked for an exit._

_“Hmm?”_

_“You and Simmons.”_

_“Hmm?” Fitz asked again, trying to sound simply curious. He was pretty sure the blush rising high on his cheekbones didn’t help with that. “What about Simmons?”_

_“You two are…” Skye finished her sentence with an expressive waggle of her eyebrows. When Fitz didn’t answer, she added in a leering sort of nod. When he still didn’t answer, she made a crude gesture with her fingers._

_“No!” Fitz nearly shouted, the blush coming out full force. “Not – we’re not – we haven’t – ”_

_“You haven’t?!” Skye seemed incredulous. “It’s been, like, two weeks, hasn’t it? And you don’t have to answer that because you guys are so obvious. And Mack can’t keep a secret to save his life. So I know it’s been two weeks. Two weeks and eleven years. How slow do you plan on taking this?”_

_“Has – ” Fitz shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “Has she said something? Is she ready…I mean, does she want to…I mean, I’m not talking about this with you, Skye.”_

**

“Soooooo.”

Fitz glanced up at Mack. Her expression was a little too ominously eager. His eyes darted back and forth as he looked for an exit.

“Hmm?”

“You and Simmons.”

“Hmm?” Fitz asked again, trying to sound simply curious. He was pretty sure the blush rising high on his cheekbones didn’t help with that. “What about Simmons?”

“You two are…” Mack finished her sentence with an expressive waggle of her eyebrows. When Fitz didn’t answer, she seemed uncertain. When he still didn’t answer, she added, “Aren’t you? A couple?”

“No!” Fitz nearly shouted, the blush coming out full force. “Not – we’re not – we’re just friends.”

“Really?!” Mack seemed incredulous.

“Has – ” Fitz shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “Has she said something? Is she interested…I mean, does she want to…I mean, I think we should get back to work, Mack.”

Mack sighed, sounding strangely disappointed. And then her mood shifted, suddenly becoming brighter and somehow more troubling, like she was only pretending to drop the conversation. She picked up the piece of tech in front of her, beamed at him, and started tinkering with it again.

Fitz’ own concentration was shot. Did they really seem like a couple to an outsider? So many people over the years had thought they were more when they never had been, but that was back before…everything. Did it mean something different now? Was Mack picking up on something from Jemma that Fitz was missing?

Of course not. He wasn’t going to let himself think that way again.

**

“Soooooo.”

Jemma lifted her head to look at Mack, her brain still focused on the dissecting tray in front of her. “Everything OK?”

“Yeah. Oh, yeah. Just – feeling kind of gossipy.”

“Uh…huh,” Jemma suddenly felt very nervous.

“I mean,” Mack explained with a little flip of her hand. It seemed almost too casual to be natural, and Jemma’s suspicion grew. “If – _if_ – I’m going to stay, I need to know more about the people who will be my co-workers, don’t you think?”

“Well…what do you want to know?”

“Bobbi and Hunter are doing it, aren’t they?”

“Oh!” Jemma laughed in more than a little relief. “Um. They used to be married. They still bicker a lot, and yeah. Yeah, I think they _might_ have, um, rekindled something there, but I don’t know for sure. Or how serious it is, if they have.”

“And May and Coulson?” Mack continued to pry, something in her voice sounding incredibly amused and knowing.

Jemma’s eyes bugged out. “No! _No_. I mean…I don’t think – they’ve never – May and Coulson? No.”

“Huh, OK. And,” Mack paused. When she spoke again, she seemed rather breathless and nervous. “Is Fitz seeing anyone?”

Jemma momentarily forgot the English language.

“Uh…Fitz?”

“Yeah.” Mack shrugged. “Is he, you know, with anyone?”

“No,” Jemma shook her head, feeling as if her brain was jostled a bit she did it so quickly. “No, not that I know of.” She picked up her probe and forced herself to stare into the tray again. She swallowed. “Why do you ask?”

“Just surprised to hear that,” Mack replied rather meaningfully. If only Jemma knew what her meaning was. “He seems like a pretty great guy.”

“Fitz? Yeah, really great,” Jemma murmured.

Mack hummed, then picked up her tablet and walked back towards the bench she had been working at. Jemma let her hand fall to the counter as she stared ahead. She felt sick to her stomach. 

Mack liked Fitz.

And she was starting to realize that she herself had waited too long. She should have said something when she acknowledged how she felt. She shouldn’t have let it go after they got interrupted. She kept thinking there would be a better time to – to risk everything. She kept wondering if he still felt the same way, anyway.

Because in the weeks since, she suddenly realized, he hadn’t seemed nearly as…well, nearly as aware of her anymore. He came into the lab somehow even more often than he did before he had officially moved to the garage, but he talked to Mack as much as he talked to Jemma when he was in there. And Mack also went to the garage frequently to work with him and “Big” Mack. Fitz laughed a lot around her, and they always seemed to have something to say to each other. They were quite similar, really, and had even, Jemma discovered the other day, developed a few inside jokes. 

Jemma had foolishly thought the thawing between Fitz and her had been a sign they were becoming closer again, that things had started to heal. But now she suspected otherwise. He wasn’t forgiving her. He was getting over her. He was moving on.

And oh God. It wasn’t like Fitz had never had crushes before. He had even gone on the occasional date, although not as many as she had been on over the years. But she always knew, secretly, that none of those women would ever _replace_ her. She was his best friend. His lab partner. They’d be together forever. But then came Mack, and now the other Mack. They both worked well with him, could finish his sentences better than Jemma could these days. And this new Mack, she – she was a scientist. She knew his language, and she could fill the last space that Jemma still had some sort of claim to. 

But that was selfish. After everything, could Jemma pretend to have any claim at all? Could she dare to think he was _hers_? She had hurt him and left him and – maybe the best thing to do, now, would be to think about what he needed and wanted. And if that was Mack, then so be it. She wouldn’t stand in the way.

Hell, he was her best friend and she wanted him to be happy. She’d help if she had to. 

Jemma closed her eyes and exhaled sharply at the thought. _Help?_ It’d be hard enough to watch him with someone else, but would she actually be able to play a role in making it happen? It almost made her want to run away to Hydra again.

**

Fitz sighed as he tried to work around Hunter. Just because he had decided it was the end of the working day did not mean he was allowed to kick his legs up on Fitz’ table while he drank his beer. Fitz shot Hunter a meaningful look as he reached around him for the soldering iron but Hunter didn’t notice, or pretended not to. He was perhaps too busy staring across the room at Mack.

“She’s hot,” he muttered.

Mack – Big Mack, and Fitz still was very proud of himself for that one – sighed loudly.

“She is,” Hunter continued. “Don’t tell me you don’t think so.”

Fitz glanced over at the woman in question. He shrugged. “She’s nice-looking but I just…”

“You only have eyes for one person, mate. We all know that.”

Fitz blushed a bit and focused back on his work. 

“I thought you did too,” Mack observed pointedly.

Hunter simultaneously shrugged and scowled. “Bob wants ‘a little space’ – again.”

Mack’s sigh was even louder this time. 

“Girl-Mack might be just what I need. She is _really_ hot.”

Fitz felt strangely overprotective of his friend and was about to open his mouth to warn Hunter against using her when Mack spoke up.

“I can’t really see that. She reminds me too much of Fitz,” he said, and Hunter choked on his beer.

“What?!”

“She does. Brownish curly hair, blue eyes, tiny – no offense, super smart. She’s more girl-Fitz than girl-Mack.”

“Are you saying I’m not hot?” Fitz asked, only partly joking.

Mack winked at him, even as Hunter continued to splutter.

**

Vindication.

It was the only word for it.

She wanted to shout _Ha!_ right in Coulson’s face. 

Part of the reason she had ended up at the Academy was because she was never allowed to go on any field missions. Sure, she was trained – by the very best, even – and could have more than handled her own. But _someone_ was always too overprotective. Some junior agent or newbie lab tech always got to go instead, while she had to stay behind. Honestly, it was unbelievably frustrating, and they had argued about it many times over the years. She had temporarily given up, holding out hope that things would change after Pops retired, but if anything, Daisy was even worse. Finally, Mack conceded defeat and went the teaching route. 

And now here they were, Coulson actually ordering her on a mission and Skye helping her find tactical gear that fit. 

_Ha!_

Mack could barely contain her excitement as she slid the vest on. Skye stepped around behind her and started to tighten the straps.

“Do you feel ready for this?” she asked.

“You would not believe how much,” Mack confirmed.

“So…you’re going to be with FitzSimmons doing the science-y stuff. Bobbi, Hunter and I will have your backs, so you just concentrate on your part of it. May’s the best pilot so no worries about our get-away, and Coulson will be overseeing everything. It should run totally smoothly.”

“I’m not nervous. I’m excited.”

“Good!” Skye replied, laughing a bit.

Before Mack could reply, Hunter came in the room. They both turned to face him, and he shot Mack a – flirtatious?? – smile. 

“Coulson wants you,” he said to Skye, then made eye contact with Mack again. “I can help you finish suiting up.”

Skye nodded and gave a little wave as she left the room, but Mack found it difficult to look away from Hunter. He stepped closer, raising an eyebrow as he took Skye’s place behind Mack.

“We haven’t really gotten to know each other yet,” he murmured in her ear. Mack felt a little spark rush through her at the sensation of his breath hitting her skin. “We should change that.”

Mack hummed warily. 

“Maybe after the mission. I can help you get these things off, and we can have a drink.”

Well, then. He was an odd mix of charming and egotistical, wasn’t he? No wonder Bobbi couldn’t stand him or stay away. Mack wasn’t touching that situation with a ten-foot pole, though. Besides, she had more than enough to worry about without getting flirty with an ex-pseudo-uncle.

“We should get going,” Hunter stepped away. “Don’t worry. I’ll be watching your back the entire time.”

Mack’s laugh was completely involuntary.

Shit.

**

The sounds of fighting were getting closer, and Mack was a big enough person to admit she was getting increasingly nervous. But still! If she had been allowed to go on field missions, she would be used to this sort of thing by now! So, Pops was still wrong. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

“Fitz? How’s it coming?” Jemma asked from across the room. 

Mack had already finished her part of the assignment, Jemma was just bagging the last of the samples, and Fitz was still in the corner, bent over the large computer server.

“One moment,” he mumbled. “I just need to…do…one…there, done.” 

He pushed the drawer shut and stepped closer to the other two just as the door was kicked open. Mack screamed, mostly in surprise, and the Hydra agent turned to her. He raised his gun, and Mack froze. The next thing she knew, a shot rang out, Fitz grabbed her arm and pulled, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bobbi take the man down with one swing of her baton. 

“Fitz!”

Jemma pushed Mack out of the way, falling to her knees and reaching out with shaking hands. Fitz was rolling around on the ground, biting back curses as he held one hand to the opposite arm. Mack felt a little woozy when she saw the blood seeping through his fingers.

“I’m OK,” he finally said. “I’m – oh God. Oh God.”

“It’s just blood,” Jemma gritted out as she tugged at the sleeve of Fitz’ shirt. With a sharp ripping sound, the fabric tore in half, and Jemma began inspecting the wound.

While blindly reaching into her bag and pulling out gauze, she looked around, then nodded towards a desk. “Go see if there is any tape or something over there.”

Mack couldn’t move. She just stared at her dad’s arm, afraid that if she left, he’d die on her. And maybe afraid that she _couldn’t_ move without fainting, because oh God, did she mention the blood?

“Mack! It’s just blood! Go find something for me to secure the bandage with!”

Mack finally rushed over to the desk. Pulling open drawers, she found some packing tape and hurried back. Dropping to her own knees, she clumsily tore off a piece and helped place it on Fitz’ arm.

**

Mack couldn’t stop trembling. In a way, she was grateful she was the only one left in the locker room. No one could see her fall apart.

She looked at her hands, washed now and free of the blood that had stained them. But there were traces left on her sleeves, and she could still see it in her mind anyway.

God. _God._

What had she been thinking? She completely froze. She’d been useless, and Fitz – her dad, her _dad_ – had been hurt. And she thought she’d be able to stop him from being killed?! Of all the people who might have a chance of preventing that from happening, she was the least likely. She’d failed them, and she’d fail them again, and it was all just a waste. She couldn’t change things, and she’d have to live with it forever. Only this time, it would be worse. Because she’d know what they were like. She’d know how great they were. She didn’t just love some abstract concept anymore, some people she only knew through photographs. She loved _them_. And she’d lose them. 

Mack sobbed once, bringing her hand up to her mouth to try to stifle it. 

The door to the locker room opened, and she looked up. It was Hunter.

“I was wondering where you were. How ‘bout that drink?”

She didn’t answer. He took one look at her and hurried over.

“Hey,” he said softly, sitting down and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Mack didn’t even try to resist. “Look, I know it didn’t go as planned, but everyone’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”

“I didn’t – I couldn’t _do_ anything,” she cried.

“Shh. Shh. It’s OK.”

He lifted a hand to her face, smoothed it over her cheek, and ran it through her hair. Mack leaned up, needing something, some comfort or distraction, some sort of – she kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually almost finished writing this, so I think it's safe to say the updates will continue to come on a fairly regular basis now.


	7. Chapter Six

_Fitz cringed at the sound of the door slamming shut. And the way she dropped the first aid kit on the table wasn’t much better. Would a preemptive apology be taken well, he wondered._

_“Take off your shirt.”_

_He hesitated, feeling more than a little self-conscious. The vest was gone now and she had already ripped the sleeve off earlier. He wasn’t injured anywhere else, so he didn’t really know why… but he wasn’t about to argue with her when she was this upset, so he simply moved his arms to the bottom hem. Which he soon realized was a bad idea. He froze and hissed at the shooting pain._

_“Fitz! Be careful!” Jemma nearly shouted. She reached out then, tenderly gathering the fabric and pulling it up and over his head. She tugged at the other sleeve to remove the garment entirely, the fingers of her other hand trailing over his bare skin. Fitz tried not to shiver in pleasure, his wound temporarily forgotten._

_“You have to be more careful,” she continued in a soft whisper. “Honestly. What were you even thinking?”_

_“I wasn’t,” he confessed, focusing somewhere just over her shoulder so he didn’t have to look at her for this. “I saw him point the gun at you. It was instinct.”_

_“Well…” Jemma eventually replied, as she removed the sloppy field dressing and began to replace it with a neater, tighter bandage. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches. It really was just a graze.”_

_“Mmm,” Fitz acknowledged, his eyes drooping closed at the feel of her softly pressing her fingers into his skin._

_“Just…promise me you won’t do that again.”_

_He opened his eyes wide and stared at her, incredulous. “I will promise no such thing.”_

_“Fitz!”_

_“I will do anything and everything I can,” he continued loudly, speaking over her. “To protect you as best I can.”_

_“I don’t want you to protect me!” Jemma shouted, her anger returning. “I want you – I want you to be safe!”_

_“Just as I expect you to protect me!” he continued. “We’re in this together, Jemma. We’ve gone over this before. I can’t live without you. I don’t want to.”_

_Jemma stared at him, her chest heaving and her eyes flashing. And then she surged upwards, catching him in a kiss. Fitz swung his good arm up, grasping onto the back of her head and holding her still as he deepened it. He didn’t need to worry about her pulling away, though. All she did was use his body as support while she scrambled up, crawling onto the exam table and pushing him to his back._

_They both reached down then, hands getting in the way of each other as they struggled to unbutton and unzip. Fitz felt no pain whatsoever, his arm more than cooperative as he lifted his hips and pushed his pants down. His eyes opened wide in shock as Jemma’s bare skin came into contact with his rapidly hardening cock, and he couldn’t stop the groan when she immediately reached out, grabbed hold of him, stroked him a few times and then angled him just right. He slid into her – hot and tight and already wet – and he barely registered her grunt as she encouraged him past any resistance._

_“Maybe we should – ” he whispered harshly. She cut him off with a sloppy kiss, and he moaned into her mouth._ Slow down _, he continued in his head._

_“No,” she gasped against his lips, reading his mind as she almost always did. “No more waiting.”_

_She moved deliberately then, riding him faster and faster, her fingers pulling at his hair. He couldn’t manage much more than digging his nails into the flesh at the swell of her bum and panting out her name over and over again. It ended perhaps earlier than he would’ve liked, and he would’ve apologized for that if they weren’t too busy shouting out their climaxes. Of all the ways he had imagined their first time, this was not one of the scenarios. But it was so much better than he had dreamed, and the way she collapsed on top of him, moaning and sweaty and murmuring how much she loved him, was the best part of all._

_“I love you,” he replied, tightening his hold around her and grinning at her contented sigh. “So much.”_

_Eventually he started to soften and their position became uncomfortable. He placed his hands on her waist again, tugging her down slightly and tilting himself up for one last jolt of almost painful pleasure, and then lifting her off him. As she moved, whining at the loss, he could feel the easy slide of her, the wetness coating him, and he blinked once dumbly._

_“Jemma. We didn’t use anything,” he observed, shocked that they both had managed to forget and yet not really all that shocked considering how overwhelmingly distracted they both had been._

_“Hmm? Oh.” She seemed equally surprised and a tad alarmed. Then she shrugged. “We’re probably OK. Can’t bring myself to care about it right now, anyway.”_

_She curled up against him, dropping a kiss on his chest. Fitz wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. If she wasn’t worried, he wouldn’t be either._

**

Fitz cringed at the sound of the door slamming shut. And the way she dropped the first aid kit on the table wasn’t much better. Would a preemptive apology be taken well, he wondered.

“Take off your shirt.”

He hesitated, feeling more than a little self-conscious. The vest was gone now and she had already ripped the sleeve off earlier. He wasn’t injured anywhere else, so he didn’t really know why… but he wasn’t about to argue with her when she was this upset, so he simply moved his arms to the bottom hem. Which he soon realized was a bad idea. He suspected he wouldn’t get much sympathy though, so he tried not to react to the shooting pain as he carefully pulled the shirt off. 

She reached out then, grabbing his arm rather roughly. He suppressed a wince. 

“You have to be more careful,” she said, and Fitz knew her well enough to know her anger was covering up fear and concern. He just wished it wasn’t covering them up quite so much. “Honestly. What were you even thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” he confessed, focusing somewhere just over her shoulder so he didn’t have to look at her for this. “I saw him point the gun, and I reacted. It was instinct.”

“Well…” Jemma eventually replied, her voice a bit quieter, as she removed the sloppy field dressing and began to replace it with a neater, tighter bandage. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches. It really was just a graze.”

“Mmm,” Fitz acknowledged, his eyes drooping closed at the feel of her softly pressing her fingers into his skin. He felt more than a little guilty about how this closeness was affecting him. 

“Just…promise me you won’t do that again.”

He opened his eyes wide and stared at her, incredulous. “I will promise no such thing.”

“Fitz!”

“I will do anything and everything I can,” he continued loudly, speaking over her. “To protect my teammates as best I can.”

“Protect Mack, you mean!” Jemma shouted, her anger returning. “You didn’t seem all that concerned about me!”

Fitz reared back, his jaw dropping in shock. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, hopping off the table and standing in front of her. 

“You just seem really protective of her, that’s all,” Jemma responded, turning away and packing things into her bag. Her voice was unnaturally high-pitched. “You must like her a lot.”

“She was in immediate danger. I reacted. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“Nope,” Jemma shook her head quickly, not meeting his eyes. “Nothing to apologize for, anyway. It is what it is.”

Fitz gaped at her, not entirely certain what they were even arguing about. “I don’t – ”

“You should go find her. I’m sure she’ll want to show you how grateful she is.”

Something clicked in his brain, and even though part of him worried it was connections misfiring again, he knew somehow that it wasn’t. “Are you _jealous_?!”

“Not at all! I’m glad you – ”

“You’re unbelievable!” Fitz stated firmly. “You’re doing this now?!”

“Doing what? I don’t know what – ”

Fitz didn’t let her finish; instead he grabbed hold of her and pulled her tight. Their lips immediately locked and he swung his good arm up, grasping onto the back of her head and holding her still as he deepened the kiss. He didn’t need to worry about her pulling away, though. All she did was use his body as support when her knees buckled. He pushed her forward, blindly finding and falling onto the couch in the corner of the room. 

They both reached down then, hands getting in the way of each other as they struggled to unbutton and unzip and push their pants down. Fitz felt no pain whatsoever, his arm more than cooperative as he lifted her and yanked her snugly onto his lap. His eyes opened wide in shock as Jemma’s bare skin came into contact with his rapidly hardening cock, and he couldn’t stop the groan when she immediately reached out, grabbed hold of him, stroked him a few times and then angled him just right. He slid into her – hot and tight and already wet – and he barely registered her grunt as she encouraged him past any resistance. 

His upper body fell forward, his hands landing on either side of her face. She forced herself up to give him a sloppy kiss, and he moaned into her mouth. 

“Yes,” she gasped against his lips. “Fitz, please.”

He moved deliberately then, rocking into her faster and faster. She dropped one hand down, her fingers snaking in between their bodies as she tried to rub at herself. He grabbed onto her hand, pulling it up almost painfully if her squeak was any indication. But he didn’t let that deter him, and he grabbed her other hand as well, moving them both over her head and crossing them at the wrists. He locked one hand around the X they made, finally looking into her eyes as he accompanied the movement with another deep thrust. Her expression was almost scared and still kind of angry and confused, and he imagined it reflected his own perfectly. They shared breath for a moment, harshly inhaling and exhaling, and then he reached his other hand down, finding her clit with his fingers. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, and he kissed her again, swallowing the groan that escaped her. 

It ended perhaps earlier than he would’ve liked, both of them shouting out their climaxes at almost the same time. He collapsed on top of her, moaning and sweaty, and he could hear her murmuring something unintelligible. 

Before he even started to soften, his senses returned and he nearly seized up in shame and regret. He pulled out of her, moving as far away as possible and sitting straight up. He stared at nothing for a moment, not even noticing her bare leg still resting on his lap or the wetness coating him and glistening on her folds.

“Fitz,” she said quietly.

He moved quickly then, wanting to get out of there before he did something even worse. Definitely before he started to cry, at any rate. He tucked himself back into his pants, zipped up, and lifted her leg off his lap so he could stand. He left the room without a word or a backwards glance.

**

Mack yelped and then moaned as Hunter slammed her into the lockers and then began sucking at her throat, his teeth scraping along the stretched muscles of her neck. It had been too long, _way_ too long, since she’d done anything like this, and it was just the distraction she wanted. She’d figure out how she was going to save her parents and get back to her own time tomorrow.

She canted her hips up, trying to encourage him to go faster, and he more than got her message. He reached one hand down, fumbling with her pants and then pushing his own down as well.

“Condom,” she gasped out. “We need – ”

He lifted her higher, kissing her again even as he wrapped one arm under her ass. He reached out with the other and pulled open his locker, conveniently right next to the one she was propped against. He began blindly rooting through the items on the shelf, hissing as Mack clenched her thighs tighter around his waist.

Mack didn’t want to think about why he had condoms in there or who he had been using them with. She just wanted one out of its package and on him. Now. 

“Hurry,” she demanded.

“Fuck,” he bit out between kisses. “Fuck, fuck.”

Mack growled in frustration, pushing him away and dropping to the ground. She twisted, finding a condom almost immediately and facing him again. They worked together, hands tangling as they opened the package and rolled the latex over his cock. And then he moved, nudging at her shoulder until she twisted again and turned completely to face the lockers. He pressed her against them, and Mack moaned into the cool metal, tilting her hips forward so she made contact with the hard surface. Hunter’s fingers dug into her flesh and he pulled her back to him, grinding against her ass before he moved again and lined himself up properly. Mack widened her stance, lifting up slightly and grunting as he pushed inside. She braced her hands on the lockers, arched back to meet him, moved her pelvis in time with his. He let go of her waist then, one hand gliding up to squeeze her breast and the other sliding down to fondle her clit. He latched his lips onto her neck again and began thrusting even faster. 

Mack spared one apologetic thought to Bobbi, and then her mind went blissfully blank.

**

Mack was back on track. And rhyming, apparently.

She was a woman with a mission, was what she was. 

No more distractions.

She pretended not to notice the rather steamy look Hunter gave her as she passed him in the hall the next morning. It certainly didn’t make any of her lady parts tingle. She also pretended not to notice the worried expression on the other Mack’s face as he looked between her and Hunter. Not her problem.

What was her problem was her parents – namely their survival, but also pressingly important, hers. She needed to find a way to get them to, for lack of a better term, knock boots. She needed to catalyze some biochemical reactions, if you will. She needed to convince them to have their own locker room sex, maybe.

Their own kinky, sweaty, came two-nearly-three times, still have the bite marks and the nail scratches to prove it, almost accidentally busted the handle off one of the locker doors, good gravy how long exactly did he last, possibly a religious experience, locker room sex.

Ahem.

That was one strategy anyway. Though not one she wanted to plan too thoroughly because, ew, her parents. 

But to strategize any further, Mack needed coffee. She walked into the break room and shot Skye a smile. After pouring a cup, she worked her way back to the table and pulled out a chair with her foot. She was about to drop into it before she remembered, and gingerly lowered herself down instead. Skye gave her a curious, suspicious sort of glance, and Mack smiled innocently.

Skye was one of their closest friends. If anyone could inadvertently give her some ideas about how to hook her parents up…

Before she could even start hinting around, her mom hurried into the room. She didn’t even bother acknowledging Mack as she grabbed hold of Skye’s arm and pulled her out of the seat. Skye squawked in protest.

“I need to talk to you.”

They disappeared out of the room, but like hell Mack wasn’t going to eavesdrop. She tiptoed towards the door and plastered herself against the wall when she heard their harsh whispers.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my _God_ ,” her mom was saying, nearly hyperventilating.

“Simmons! What is going on? Is it – ”

“It’s Fitz!”

“What about Fitz?”

“It’s…we slept together.”

Mack’s heart jumped into her throat, and judging by the long pause, she wasn’t the only one who was surprised by that reveal. 

“Huh?”

“We slept together! We screwed! We banged! We _f_ – ” Jemma’s voice dropped so low Mack couldn’t hear it, and she grinned at her mom’s apparent reluctance to curse.

“You…made love?” Skye asked, apparently still needing clarification.

“ _No_. We emphatically did not do that.”

“Oh. Was it…not good?”

“It was _fantastic_.”

“Really?!” Skye’s voice leapt high in disbelief. Mack almost felt offended on her father’s behalf.

“What do I do?” her mom sounded desperately confused and uncertain.

“Um…go tell him you love him and want to marry him and have lots of, gag, fantastic sex and a half dozen genius babies?”

There was another long pause, and then she could just hear Jemma whisper, “Babies?”

“Well, geez, Jemma, I didn’t mean right away.”

There was no response.

“Jemma? Jemma?”

“Oh my _God!_ ”

Mack mentally patted herself on the back. Half her mission accomplished. She’d find a way to take credit for it somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many bad choices in this chapter, FitzSimmons family. Just. So many.


	8. Chapter Seven

_Jemma paced back and forth, wringing her hands together. She had taken three over-the-counter tests before officially confirming it in the lab. She still couldn’t quite believe it. Running her hands down her face, she tried to think of the best way to tell –_

_“Jemma?”_

_She whirled in the direction of the voice, her heart suddenly thumping._

_“Is everything OK?”_

_She took a deep breath. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”_

_Fitz narrowed his eyes questioningly. Then he reached out and grabbed her by the elbow. With a light tug, he pulled her into his bunk and led her to the bed. He guided her to sit, then knelt in front of her._

_“Tell me what’s – ”_

_“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, interrupting him._

_He was speechless for a long moment. “Pr – pregnant? With a baby?”_

_Maybe under other circumstances, she would have rolled her eyes or sighed in annoyance at his response. But everything seemed so unbelievable that she started laughing instead. She fell back onto the bed, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stop her giggles._

_“Yes, Fitz,” she managed. “With a baby.”_

_He crawled onto the bed and stretched out next to her. Propping himself on his elbow, he reached his other hand out and stroked it through her hair. “Is this…good or bad?”_

_She felt nervous – and yet strangely not – as she looked at him. “What do you think?”_

_“I think…good?”_

_Jemma’s smile was so wide, it hurt her face. “I think good too.”_

_Fitz grinned back before rolling on top of her and pulling her into a hug, peppering kisses all over her face. “Oh my God,” he murmured into her skin. “A baby.”_

_He suddenly pulled away from her. “Am I hurting it?”_

_Jemma started laughing again._

**

Jemma paced back and forth, wringing her hands together. She had taken three over-the-counter tests before officially confirming it in the lab. She still couldn’t quite believe it. Running her hands down her face, she tried to think of the best way to deal –

“Jemma?”

She whirled in the direction of the voice, her heart suddenly thumping. 

“Is everything OK?”

She took a deep breath. “No.” Her face crumpled. “No, it’s not.”

Skye rushed over and pulled her into a hug. Then she led her over to the stool in the corner of the lab and guided to her sit. Skye stood in front of her and held both of her hands in her own. 

“Tell me what’s – ”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, interrupting her.

Skye was speechless for a long moment. “Pregnant? With a baby?”

Maybe under other circumstances, she would have rolled her eyes or sighed in annoyance at her response. But everything seemed so unbelievable that she started laughing instead. But her amusement couldn’t last long. She buried her face in her hands as her laughter turned to sobs. 

Skye pulled her into a hug again. “Don’t – Jemma. Maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe this will help…fix things.”

“Oh, right,” Jemma pulled away, scoffing. “Because babies always fix failed relationships.”

“Your relationship with Fitz is _not_ failed.”

“No,” Jemma shook her head. “No, it never even began. And now – now – Skye, what am I going to do?”

Skye opened her mouth to respond. Unsurprisingly, she couldn’t come up with a solution either.

**

Mack was starting to feel a little concerned. She had hoped, based on the conversation she had overheard, that things would at least _start_ to work themselves out. But, if anything, her parents were avoiding each other even more than they had been when she first arrived. If one of them walked into a room, the other one walked out. Fitz was pale and hardly ate, and Jemma constantly looked like she was about to start crying or puking.

That might have something to do with the pregnancy, of course. Not that Mack had been told anything, but Jemma had to be knocked up. Mack hadn’t blinked out of existence yet, so she presumably was still on schedule to be born. 

Ultimately she was beginning to think she had to accept she had been told yet another lie. She might have been a surprise early in their “relationship” but she certainly wasn’t a happy one. She was not only unplanned but also unwanted. Frankly, she had never _actually_ seen a marriage certificate and she was starting to wonder if they were ever happy, ever together, or if they had died estranged. Had they ever been friends even?! 

Mack was apparently the product of a soap opera, and no one had had the heart to tell her.

**

Fitz picked at the label of his beer bottle and stared off into space. He vaguely registered the concerned looks Mack kept giving him, but didn’t bother responding. He knew Mack wouldn’t accept that much longer, so he was trying to think of something to say. Some explanation to give. Some way to admit he had… Fitz lifted his bottle to his lips and took a swig.

She’d never forgive him. And he didn’t blame her for it. 

He sighed, lifted a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mack put down his tools and straighten up, opening his mouth to speak.

Before he could say anything, though, Hunter walked into the garage, sighing loudly as he took a beer out of the pack and twisted the top off.

“Women. I swear.”

Fitz fought a tired smile. “Bobbi again?”

“Nah, Mack.”

Fitz’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know there was anything with Mack,” he observed even as Mack – Big Mack – bent forward and rested his forehead against his arms. 

“No,” Mack groaned.

Hunter held his arms out in defense. “I’m single. She’s single. We’re both adults.”

“Did you ask her out?” Fitz asked, tilting his head curiously.

Hunter snorted and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, we’re going to share a malt at the soda shop.”

“Then…what?”

“You _didn’t_ ,” Mack said at the same time. 

“We’re both adults,” Hunter repeated, and Fitz’ mouth dropped open in sudden realization.

“Really?!”

“And now she won’t give me the time of day.”

“Maybe it was that bad,” Mack muttered.

But it was loud enough for Hunter to hear, and he glared at Mack in response. “Trust me, mate. That wasn’t the problem.”

“What about Bobbi?” Fitz asked, distracting them both from the tangent.

Hunter shook his head. “I told you. She wanted a break. Indefinitely. And I’m completely willing to give one to her. I’m so tired of the back and forth.”

“But I thought you loved her.”

“Fitz, man. Love and sex don’t always go together.”

Fitz felt his stomach sink as he once again was reminded of his own issues. He too had recently been with a woman who now refused to talk to him. He wanted to believe love had played some small part of it, but he was beginning to give up that hope. Maybe it had been pity? Guilt or some sense of obligation? Heat of the moment passion from their argument? He didn’t know. He had just been thinking – if any thought was actually involved – about what he wanted, about how it was really happening. Whatever she wanted or felt, there was no chance she still did so now.

Not that he blamed her, after he – Fitz sighed.

**

Jemma scooped another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She didn’t even care that the whole carton was nearly gone. Then she inhaled deeply and sighed even louder. Tears pricked at her eyes _again_.

A fresh carton was placed in front of her, and Jemma looked up. Bobbi and Skye smiled back at her, and Jemma felt her chin start to wobble.

“I love you guys,” she announced. 

“Dig in,” Bobbi said. “You’re eating for two, after all.”

Jemma gaped in surprise, then turned to stare accusingly at Skye. Skye simply shook her head and held up her hands. They both looked at Bobbi, who rolled her eyes. 

“No one told me,” she confirmed. “But… you realize you need to tell one person, right?”

“Coulson?” Jemma dodged.

“That isn’t who I meant, and you know it.”

Jemma sighed and reached out for the new container of ice cream. Bobbi and Skye sat down across from her and picked up the extra spoons they had brought.

**

Mack walked into the kitchen and then stopped instantly. She felt a sharp pang of nostalgia as she watched Bobbi, Skye and Jemma sharing a carton of ice cream. Nearly every milestone in her life, every heartbreak and every celebration, had involved three spoons and mint chocolate chip. She still remembered how she cried when they told her once, on her 18th birthday, that the tradition dated back to when she was just a wisp of potential in her mother’s womb.

“Mind if I join you?” she managed to say.

All three women looked up, with varying degrees of welcome, and Mack noted Jemma’s red-rimmed eyes. Things were still bleak with her father then. 

“Sit down,” Skye finally said, kicking a chair out. 

After taking a slight detour to grab a spoon, Mack joined the others and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she dug into the carton. She was a little surprised when no one scolded her for her manners.

“Someone else’s turn to vent,” Jemma declared. Mack suspected she just didn’t want her to know what was going on, so she’d let it slide. For now. She’d get the details eventually, from someone. She had to. 

Skye scoffed loudly. “I have no love life to vent about.”

The others looked at Mack expectantly. She just shook her head. Bobbi – this Bobbi – still hadn’t warmed up to her fully. She wasn’t about to give her another reason to dislike or suspect her. 

“Bobbi?” 

Bobbi sighed and shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t either.”

“Oh come on,” Skye responded skeptically. “You and Hunter have been hot and cold for months.”

“We’re definitely cold now,” Bobbi confirmed with a shrug. 

“How do you feel about that?” Jemma asked.

Mack took another bite of ice cream, trying like hell to seem unaffected by this conversation.

“Fine,” Bobbi said. At their looks, she repeated herself. “Honestly! I was the one who broke it off, and he seems to have actually accepted it. He’s been completely cordial, maybe even a little distant, for a few weeks now.”

“Actually,” Skye mused. “I think you’re right. You guys haven’t fought; he hasn’t complained about you as far as I know. Maybe you’re both growing as people.”

“Maybe,” Bobbi concurred.

Mack hummed and took another bite of ice cream.

**

Bobbi’s denials maybe weren’t completely credible, but they were sincere _enough_. At least that’s what Mack told herself as her back arched and her legs spread wider and a moan was torn from deep in her chest. Hunter’s tongue lapped at her clit, and his fingers pressed inside her, his thumb resting outside and just below his mouth. They had run into each other, conveniently right outside his room, after the impromptu girls’ night had broken up. She had struggled to find an explanation for why she was walking down that particular hall, but he didn’t seem to especially care. They had held each other’s gaze for a long, heady, heated moment, and the next thing Mack had known, they were tripping over each other’s feet as he steered her towards his bed and she had nearly ripped the neck of his shirt when she yanked it off him.

He found just the right spot, and Mack sat straight up in response. She buried her hands in his hair and then fell back onto the bed. Hunter chuckled, the vibration setting her off even more. She needed to gain control of this somehow. She needed – 

“You know this is – ” she propped herself up on her elbows for a moment and stared down at him. “Just, this is just – ”

He pulled away from her, and she tried not to whine in disappointment. “Just fun. A good time.”

“Stress relief.”

“No hurt feelings.”

“OK,” she nodded rapidly, and then sighed with ecstasy as Hunter returned to his earlier activities. 

She couldn’t spend _every_ hour of the day worrying about her parents and waiting for their killer to show up, after all. Besides, for all she knew, this could prevent the second marriage and divorce. Really, Bobbi would probably thank her for it.

**

The knock on his door woke Fitz up, and he blinked blearily into the dark room. He swallowed to get some moisture in his mouth, then glanced at his clock. Only about 40 minutes since he and the other guys had gone their separate ways. He had crashed almost immediately, a combination of exhaustion, depression and alcohol.

There was another knock, and Fitz swung his legs over the side of his bed. He swayed a bit when he stood up and then he walked to the door.

Jemma was waiting impatiently and nervously on the other side. If she wasn’t so clearly uncomfortable, Fitz might have thought this was actually a dream. Instead, he rubbed at his eye, and coughed, and desperately tried to think of something to say.

“May I come in, please?” 

He was pretty sure he had never heard her voice so meek. He immediately stepped to the side, and she walked past him. Her arm just brushed against his, and Fitz closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.

“Fitz, we need to talk.”

He opened his eyes again and closed the door. 

“I know, Jemma. And I just want to say – ” He shook his head quickly. He had practiced this in his head so many times, he didn’t even stumble over the words. “I’m so sorry. Tell me what you need me to do. Do you want me to leave? I’ll request a transfer first thing in the morning. Do you want me to – ”

“Why would I want you to leave?”

He looked up at her, feeling rather distraught, but he couldn’t hold eye contact. His control over his words started to slip too. “I do-don’t want you to feel un…comfortable. I should have nnnnever – you should report me.”

“What? Fitz – ”

He stared at his feet and thus was entirely surprised when she placed her hands on his cheeks and forced him to look at her. His eyes darted away nonetheless.

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want, Fitz." A moment later, she added, with a hint of teasing, "Except maybe leave the room after."

He looked at her again, hopeful and vulnerable, not quite understanding the teary smile she gave him.

“I was more than willing,” she continued.

His mouth gaped open as he searched for a response. He wanted to believe her. Even at the time, even through his haze of lust, she really had seemed exceptionally enthusiastic. But nothing she had said or done before or after made sense then. She had left him, even after he told her how he felt about her. She had avoided him for weeks since that night in the exam room as much as, if not more than, he had avoided her.

Before he could say anything, though, she spoke again. “Fitz,” she began, sounding hesitant. “I have to tell you something.”

Her reluctance made it sound completely ominous and Fitz steeled himself, trying to think of the worst thing she could say. Eventually he nodded, trying to spur her on, wanting to get it over with.

“I’m…pregnant,” she said firmly, sounding as rehearsed as he had felt earlier. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I’ve decided to keep it. You can be involved as much or as little as you want, but I don’t expect – I won’t demand anything from you.”

Fitz couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she was saying. After a long beat, he finally choked out, “What?”

“A baby, Fitz. I’m having a baby.”

Fitz blinked.

“OK. That’s…what I wanted to say. Good night,” she said in a rush, hurrying out the door before he could stop her. 

Fitz shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. He tried to go back through exactly what she had just told him, tried to read between the lines of what she said to discover what she wanted him to understand. He still had no confidence in his ability to interpret her, though. 

She was pregnant. That was, oddly, the easy part to get. He knew how biology worked; he knew they hadn’t been responsible regarding protection.

She had decided to keep it. Which meant she had considered alternatives. She had thought, seriously, about getting rid of it, his baby. She might not have ever told him. She was _that_ upset at the prospect of…

And she told him that she wouldn’t ask anything of him. For all that she said he could be involved, it felt very obvious that she didn’t want him to be any part of the baby’s life, or her life. For all that she said she had wanted everything that had happened between them, she clearly was trying to distance herself now, trying to find a way to pretend it didn’t happen even with the unmistakable evidence that it had. 

Fitz sunk onto his bed. How had things become so messed up?


	9. Chapter Eight

_Jemma smiled, a secret sort of joy flooding through her as she rested her fingers over the maybe-only-in-her-imagination swell of her abdomen. Her happiness only increased when Fitz hummed softly and reached down to tangle his fingers with hers._

_“Good morning, baby,” he murmured._

_“Don’t I get a good morning too?”_

_“Shh. I’m having a very important discussion with my kid.”_

_“Oh. OK.” Jemma’s grin grew wider, and Fitz scooted down farther on the mattress until he was level with Jemma’s belly button._

_“Now. Baby. Don’t tell Mum, but I’ve been thinking about getting her a gift. Do you have any good ideas? I’ll pay for it, but I think she would like it better if you picked it out.”_

_“Fitz,” Jemma interrupted with a laugh. “The baby’s ears aren’t even fully formed yet.”_

_“Well, we Fitzes are very, ah, pre…cocious. Always do things at an early age.”_

_Jemma’s laughter died immediately. She tilted her head down to look at Fitz. “Excuse me? You Fitzes?”_

_“FitzSimmonses?”_

_“Better.”_

_“Can I continue my conversation, please?”_

_“By all means. Don’t let me interrupt you.”_

_She watched as Fitz repositioned himself, propping himself on one elbow. He moved his other hand then, switching from the gentle pressure he had been applying to tracing lazy circles with just his fingers. After so many weeks together, Jemma was pleasantly familiar with that particular move and she felt her body respond even before he started to widen the circle with each pass._

_“Mummy likes science stuff, so we could get her something for the lab.”_

_Jemma made a quiet negative sound._

_“Not very romantic, is it? How about a picture frame to hold your mugshot when we finally get to take one?”_

_This time, the noise she made was contemplative but not particularly enthusiastic._

_“Maybe…a lacy new nightgown?”_

_“Sounds like a present – ” she broke off with a sharp breath when Fitz’s fingers finally followed through with their implicit promise. “For Daddy,” she finished on a moan._

_Fitz increased the speed and pressure of his movements, sliding back up the mattress a bit to give himself a better angle. “I’ve got it, baby. We make the FitzSimmons official.”_

_Jemma inhaled sharply and her eyes opened wide. She stared at him for a long beat. “Huh?”_

_“Look in the drawer.”_

_Her heart pounded wildly and she was oddly afraid to follow his instructions. Fitz simply nodded at her, and Jemma twisted to reach for the drawer handle. There, next to a pack of condoms that had barely been used before they discovered that they weren’t needed, was a small jewelry box. Jemma slammed the drawer shut._

_When she finally had the courage to look at him again, his expression was confused and hurt and maybe even scared._

_“Jemma?”_

_She shook her head, unable to speak. Fitz paled, drawing his now-motionless hand away from her body._

_“No?”_

_“I can’t, Fitz,” she whispered. “I won’t. Not just because of the baby.”_

_She was exceedingly confused when a wide grin broke across his face. He seemed relieved, and she wondered if maybe he hadn’t really meant it. Maybe he just felt obligated to –_

_“How ‘bout because we’re madly in love and want to spend the rest – the rest of our lives together?”_

_Oh._

_“Um…”_

_“Jemma?”_

_Her smile suddenly mirrored his, and she rapidly blinked back tears. “Not until after the baby. I want to look good in my dress and dance all night in high heels and drink champagne.”_

_“Really?”_

_Jemma nodded. “Really,” she confirmed, barely speaking the word before Fitz surged forward and up to press his lips to hers. “Fitz,” she continued, the sound slightly muffled. “You can go back to what you were doing earlier now.”_

_He started laughing. “Oh, I can, can I?”_

**

Jemma pressed her lips together firmly to prevent herself from crying as she rested her fingers over the maybe-only-in-her-imagination swell of her abdomen. She’d be showing for real soon, and she’d have to tell everyone else finally, and she still didn’t know if she was fighting tears of happiness or heartache.

“Good morning, baby,” she murmured.

It took a few more minutes for her to work up the motivation to sit and swing her legs over the side of her bed. She shuffled to her wardrobe, sighing as she picked out her bloaty-day pants and a shirt that would hang loose and long enough, just in case. 

She prepared for the day almost mindlessly, showering and dressing without being fully aware of her actions. She forced some breakfast down and wandered into the lab after that. There were several technicians already at work, but the room seemed so empty. It had seemed so very empty ever since Fitz had moved to the garage, and she suspected it always would.

**

Mack sighed, placed the screwdriver in her hand down on the table, and lifted both hands to her face. She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes and rubbed them in circles. Once that was done, she stretched her arms out, arching her back until she felt a little pop.

“Ugh, I’m tired.”

“Hi Tired; I’m Fitz.”

Mack stared at him, her expression somewhere between disbelief and disgust even as she fought a ridiculous swell of affection.

“Did you…”

He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow questioningly, before focusing back on his work.

“Did I what?”

“Just – dad joke me?”

Fitz laughed once, sharply. “Yeah, I guess so. The danger of spending too much time with Coulson.”

Mack grinned. She had heard them all from Pops over the years, of course, but nothing could have prepared her for the experience of one told by Fitz. And then her grin fell when she saw him scowl and bend over the table again.

“Just getting some practice, I guess.”

Mack’s breath turned shallow, and she tried to act normally. Finally, a chance to get some intel.

“What do you mean?”

Fitz hesitated for a moment, and then looked cautiously around the rest of the garage. 

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this but…I, uh, that is…Simmons. She’s pr – pregnant.” 

Mack let her jaw drop in mock surprise. 

“What?”

“Just – keep it quiet, please. For now. “

Mack inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to determine the best way to work this angle. She picked up the screwdriver again, all casual-like.

“I didn’t realize you two were together,” she observed super-nonchalantly, not able to make eye contact with him.

There was a long pause. “We’re not. It was just – I don’t know. A mistake, I guess.”

Mack tried not to flinch at being called a mistake. She told herself it wasn’t true; his wrecked voice made that clear, at least. She couldn’t maintain her pretense of disinterest. Putting the tool down again, she looked at him.

“Doesn’t sound like you believe that.”

Fitz sighed, lifting one hand to rub his face. He stared off into the distance for a moment, and Mack was shocked to see tears in his eyes. Then he cleared his throat and focused on the tech in his hand again.

“Doesn’t matter what I believe.”

Mack hesitated. “I thought you two were best friends. That’s what I heard, anyway. What…what happened?”

“Lots of things,” Fitz told her. “More important is what…didn’t.”

“What didn’t happen then?”

Fitz shrugged. “We didn’t talk. We still aren’t talking.”

“You should say something,” Mack declared.

His smile was wan. “Not that easy.”

“I don’t care. She’s probably terrified and sad and missing you awfully and in denial about it. I’m pretty sure it’s your job as the father to make sure the crazy-hormonal pregnant woman knows she’s loved.”

Fitz looked away again, and Mack crossed her fingers under the table. Finally, he nodded. She tried not to appear too relieved. 

“Yeah, I’ll…I’ll try. Don’t know what I’ll say.”

Mack gave him a supportive grin. “You’ll think of something.”

They were both silent for a long moment, and then Fitz seemed to shake himself a bit. He looked at Mack again, suddenly trapping her with a teasing smile and twinkling eyes. She felt very nervous.

“So why are you tired?”

“Just…didn’t sleep much.”

“Why not?”

Shit. Mack immediately flushed red as she remembered why not. As she remembered the rhythmic slamming of the bed against the wall of her bunk. The way she couldn’t stop crying out Hunter’s name. The way he moved faster and then slower again, drawing it out, nearly making her beg, until finally she flipped them over and rode him until she came with a shout that echoed throughout the room – the room right between Fitz’ and Jemma’s.

“Maybe the same reason I couldn’t sleep last night?” Fitz continued, arching an eyebrow. 

“Sorry,” Mack whispered, aghast. She’d need therapy, she was sure of it. Somehow, talking about Fitz’ relationship problems just now had seemed fine. It hadn’t really seemed like it was her _parent’s love life_ she was actually offering advice on. But now, he was teasing her about her love – sex…her sex life. Ugh. _Ugh._

And then Fitz was laughing. “Let’s get back to work.”

“ _Please._ ”

**

Bobbi knocked on the open door of Coulson’s office. Luckily, May was in there too, so she’d only have to report the event once.

“Bad news,” she announced. 

Coulson sighed. “What now?”

“Bombing in Norway. The field agents on site will have a better idea of casualties once the dust settles. And their forensics team will upload all the data, so Fitz and Jemma can analyze it from here.”

“Hydra?” May asked.

Bobbi shook her head. “I don’t think so. It isn’t like them. And…” She hesitated for a moment, knowing how it would sound and not wanting to give any sort of support to the gossip. She wouldn’t deny that she was still suspicious of Mack; they had yet to determine who exactly she was and where she came from. But it didn’t take a group of trained secret agents to figure out where Hunter was spending his evenings – well, spending any free moment he could get behind closed doors and near a flat surface. She wasn’t jealous or annoyed. Much. She had ended things with him, and she wasn’t the type of woman to get into a catfight over a guy. 

That didn’t mean she could just overlook all the red flags still surrounding Mackenzie Leopold or whatever her real name was.

“And…?” Coulson prompted. 

“There was a graffiti tag on a nearby wall. Something potentially Asgardian. A picture of it has been sent to Elliot Randolph to see if he can recognize it.”

Coulson and May looked at each other. “What aren’t you telling us?” May asked.

Bobbi sighed loudly. “It was one of the symbols etched onto that bowl. The one that came in with Mack.”

**

“Fitz? Simmons? Anything else to report?” Coulson asked, clearly aiming to wrap the meeting up.

“Oh, yes!” Jemma said. “Randolph called this afternoon. He gave me some information on the bowl’s symbols – or runes, rather.”

Mack looked up in excitement. While she had managed to come up with something obviously good _enough_ to get her there, her calculations clearly hadn’t been as refined as they could have been. She was sure that was partly because she never did figure out what exactly it was or its underlying properties. It was like being able to drive a car but needing a mechanic to actually know how it runs. Maybe with more information her return trip will be more exact. But…

“Who is Randolph?”

“An Asgardian!” her parents said at the same time. They looked at each other, blushed slightly and looked away again. So, Mack observed to herself, he hadn’t talked to her yet. 

“Yeah,” Skye added. “He’s got the hots for Simmons.”

Fitz’ expression turned into a frown, and Mack hid her amusement by looking away quickly.

“Oh, he does not,” Jemma said. 

“Can we please?” Coulson asked, sighing.

“Yes, sorry, sir. The bowl – it was covered in _ancient_ Asgardian runes, which are very similar in form to modern Asgardian but with notable differences in meaning. The ones he had been able to translate, or at least guess at a translation for, were vengeance, destiny, children, and most importantly the Well of Urd.”

“The Well of _Urd_?” Hunter asked, the expression on his face rather priceless. He was too cute, sometimes. 

Mack shook her head, berating herself for letting her attention slip.

“I remember this,” Fitz said, sitting up suddenly in excitement. “From the class we – ”

“Took freshman year at the Academy, yes.”

“And for those of us who didn’t go to Hogwarts?” Skye prompted.

“Urd means destiny,” Jemma began, her enthusiasm increasing. “The Well of Urd is what the tree Y…Ygg…I can’t pronounce it. A tree grows out of it, and the – ”

“The nine realms are in the branches,” Fitz picked up the explanation almost seamlessly, and one of Mack’s eyebrows rose. “Odin can ride his horse up and down the different branches.”

“Yes, it’s all very symbolic, of course,” Jemma continued. “Some interpretations of the myth – well, what they believed to be a myth, anyway – are that it reflects views of time. There are really only two tenses – ”

“Past and present,” Fitz interjected.

Jemma nodded. Mack’s mouth dropped open as she stared between them. 

“Past and present. And things that go back and forth – water, for example – ”

“Tell them about the – the women, the – “

“Oh, right. The maidens. They carve runes into the tree that are supposed to be the destinies of children – the other runes on the bowl, remember – but like I was saying, there’s a cycle going back and forth from the tree.”

“Destiny isn’t _fate_ ,” Fitz clarified, gesturing to emphasize the point.

“No, things are mutable. The present flows back into the Well which changes the past which can in turn change the present.”

They both stopped speaking and beamed at the rest of the group. Mack noted varying levels of confusion coming from the others, but she mostly was too distracted by what she had just seen to really think yet about what they had said. This – this is what her family always talked about. This is how they used to be, two halves of one _force_ of knowledge and enthusiasm and – they were so _good_ together. How could they not see that? How could they not be doing everything possible to get that back? 

“So…what does Randolph think it is?” May asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Some kind of – time machine?”

Mack’s eyes widened slightly, and she felt her pulse pick up. 

“Oh no,” Jemma laughed. “No, of course not. He thinks it’s a way to travel between the different realms without permission from Heimdall. A little secret passage so one doesn’t have to rely on the Bifrost.“

Mack sucked her lower lip in, trying to maintain a neutral expression. It didn’t help that she felt both Coulson and Bobbi staring at her. So instead she forced a laugh.

“Good thing nothing happened to me when I kicked it then, huh? I could’ve ended up in one of the…bad realms instead of here with you guys.”

It was pretty weak, but it seemed to do the job. And Fitz’ next statement took the focus off her anyway.

“I think we should call it the Well of Urd. It needs a name. And a bowl is kind of like a well.”

Coulson sighed, and Mack wondered why he should be so, for lack of a better word, grudgingly accepting of her father trying to name something. “OK, thanks. Dismissed.”

Mack stood and quickly left the room, wanting to get away from the others for a while so she could think about what all this meant, not to mention recover from seeing _FitzSimmons_ for the first time. She exhaled a long, deep breath and then headed for her bunk. 

She didn’t get very far before Hunter caught up to her. He slid a hand along her back towards her hip, ending up maybe a little too low to really be appropriate for the hallway. She shot him a scolding look, but it lacked effectiveness against the charming grin he sent back at her. He had an entirely too high opinion of what that grin could accomplish, though. 

“What are you doing right now?” he asked, punctuating it with a little wink.

Mack bit her lower lip in a fruitless attempt to stop her smile. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she felt her face get a bit warm. 

No. No, she had other things to – he cocked an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes, accompanying the response with a little laugh. He knew then that he had won, and Mack tried not to giggle as she turned down the hall towards the bedrooms. He practically tripped over her feet, he followed her so closely.

**

Bobbi pretended she didn't notice Hunter practically race out of the briefing to catch up to Mack. Instead, she turned to face Coulson and May. Coulson’s expression eloquently told her she should wait until the others all left.

Once they were alone, she leaned across the table towards the other two.

“Anyone thinking what I’m thinking?” May asked. 

“That that was more than just an interesting mythology lesson?” Bobbi responded.

“Mmm.”

“More importantly,” Coulson added. “Where does the ‘vengeance’ rune fit in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interesting read: http://norse-mythology.org/cosmology/yggdrasil-and-the-well-of-urd/
> 
> Interesting tidbit: I had already developed this whole Asgardian element and several other themes in the story _before_ I found this information or decided on a title. It was uncanny how well it worked.


	10. Chapter Nine

_Jemma hummed uncertainly, then looked at the instructions in her hand._

_“I think you want to – ”_

_“Hold on, hold on,” Fitz interrupted, holding up one finger as he turned the screwdriver with his other hand._

_“I don’t think this is right,” Mack observed from where he was propping up the end of the half-constructed crib._

_“Both of you, shush. I have a Ph.D. in Engineering; I can build a crib. Mack, just hold that up. Jemma, drink your tea and let the men take care of things.”_

_Jemma shared an amused smirk with Mack. “He impregnates his girlfriend and suddenly turns all manly.”_

_Fitz flashed her a quick grin and then returned to his work. After a moment, he paused, his brow furrowing. He stood, stepped back and tilted his head, inspecting the crib. Then he reached a hand toward Jemma._

_“OK, give me the instructions.”_

_She held them out, humming_ Macho Man _under her breath. Even as she did, she felt...something inside her. Gasping, she dropped the paper and moved her hand to her stomach. Fitz’ screwdriver clattered to the floor, followed by the very loud bang of the side of the crib. Both Fitz and Mack were at her side immediately, Fitz falling to his knees in front of her and Mack hovering nervously._

_“What is it? Is something wrong?” Fitz asked._

_“Should I get someone?” Mack added._

_Jemma just laughed, tears in her eyes as she realized what the sensation had been and because of how much she loved the man – men, really – beside her._

_“No,” she reassured them. “No. The baby just kicked.”_

_Fitz’ eyebrows did a weird little dance of emotion and he hesitantly lifted one hand to her stomach. Jemma shook her head apologetically._

_“I don’t think you’ll be able to feel it yet.”_

**

Jemma hummed uncertainly, then looked at the instructions in her hand.

“I think I want to – ”

Nope. She had no idea what she was supposed to do next, or how she’d lift the various sections of the crib anyway. She should ask Bobbi for help, but she didn’t want to admit she needed any. It was hard enough to acknowledge she wasn’t physically strong enough. She didn’t know how she’d feel confessing she couldn’t understand simple instructions.

She decided to blame the baby for it. Baby brain, or whatever it was called. Obviously, it was also the baby’s fault she couldn’t remember how to operate the centrifuge that morning, and it was its fault she burst into tears when May suggested she start transferring some of her lab duties to the techs, and it was its fault she yelled at Coulson when he removed her from active field duty as soon as he found out, and it was its fault that whenever she saw Fitz she either wanted to claw his eyes out or jump his bones. 

Tea. She needed tea. Ugh, decaffeinated tea. 

She dragged out the process as long as possible, not wanting to return and face the physical manifestation of all her frustrations and fears. But eventually, she had to go back to her room, and what she saw when she arrived both shocked and touched her: Fitz, bent over the pieces of the crib with a screwdriver and a look of concentration.

“Fitz.”

He almost dropped the screwdriver in surprise and then looked up at her. “Were you trying to put this together yourself?”

She hesitated, which was answer enough for him.

“Jemma!”

Everything in her wanted to shout back at him, to remind him it was her responsibility and his lack of _anything_ since she had told him about the baby certainly hadn’t given the impression he wanted to help. But the truth was she couldn’t and shouldn’t put the crib together alone.

The truth was she desperately didn’t want to push him away. 

At her silence, he exhaled loudly, turning to face the crib again. “Sorry. I don’t mean to – yell. Just…please be careful. You can – I can – let me do this sort of stuff.” He stopped talking while he bent down to pick up another piece of the crib. And then he made a strained expression and lowered the section back down again. “Let me and Mack do this sort of stuff.”

A smile hinted at Jemma’s lips, and she stepped farther into the room.

“What are you doing here?” He froze at the question, which made Jemma immediately tense in apprehension. Maybe she could have worded that better. “I just – I mean – ”

He looked up at her again, his expression somewhat sickly, and Jemma felt even more nervous. 

“I, ah, wanted…I thought we could…Mack, she...There’s some things I want…” Fitz sighed loudly, staring at his hands as he pushed the grip of the screwdriver into his bad palm. 

Jemma was about to respond, wondering if she had any reasonable guess for finishing his sentence and if she could bear to hear whatever he wanted to tell her about Mack, when she felt...something inside her. She gasped and moved her hand to her stomach. Fitz’ screwdriver clattered to the floor then, and he was at her side immediately.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” he asked.

Jemma just laughed, tears in her eyes as she realized what the sensation had been and because of how much she loved the man beside her, despite everything.

“No,” she reassured him. “No. The baby just kicked.”

Fitz’ eyebrows did a weird little dance of emotion and he hesitantly lifted one hand. 

“C – can I?”

Jemma nodded, not convinced he’d be able to feel anything yet but wanting to share this moment with him. Wanting to feel his touch again. 

He stepped closer and reached out slowly, his hand trembling a bit; Jemma grabbed it and pressed it to her stomach. Fitz didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, for a long moment, and then his brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like…” Jemma whispered, feeling for some reason like it was a sacred moment that shouldn’t be disturbed. “Like bubbles. Or flutters.”

Fitz stared at her, holding eye contact for an intense, emotional second. She inhaled deeply when she realized he had tears in his eyes. And she wondered again what exactly he wanted to talk to her about. 

She was too afraid to ask.

**

Mack’s arms gave out and she fell to the mattress with an _oof_ , Hunter landing on her back moments later. A giddy sort of grin stretched across her face and she didn’t even bother trying to stifle her breathless laugh. He slid his hands along her arms up to her own, their fingers interlacing as he buried his face in the space between her neck and shoulder and moved his hips in an attempt to eke a few more thrusts out of his spent body. And then he reached down, holding onto the condom as he pulled out of her and fell to his back. Mack waited just long enough for him to take care of it and then she flipped over herself, ending up half on top of him. The arm she was lying on bent up, flopping down again and landing on her breast with a gentle squeeze. Men.

Mack sighed. She should get up, get back to work, get him out of her room while she was at it. They were done and it was dangerous to linger too long, and she was neglecting her parents too much lately anyway. Priorities, Mack. Priorities. With a little groan, she attempted to sit up, but Hunter just whined, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her back down.

“Stay a while,” he slurred. 

Oh, what harm could it do?

She rested her hand on his arm, tracing her fingers through the soft hairs there. Her eyes drifted closed.

“You’re amazing,” he added.

Mack opened her eyes again and stared at the ceiling. “Careful,” she warned.

“An amazing amount of _fun_ ,” he clarified, and she pretended that was all he meant.

Mack inhaled deeply and sighed. And then she snorted when he groped her breast again.

“Men,” she said aloud.

“What?”

“Guys and boobs. In my experience, women tend to be far less enamored with them.”

“Well, yeah. You have them.”

Mack shook her head. After a pause, she felt Hunter lift his head and turn to stare at her.

“What do you mean, in your experience?”

“In my experience with women. Female lovers. In bed. I’m bi.”

At his long silence, she twisted to look back and up at him. His eyes were somewhat glazed over and a smile was starting to dawn on his face. Mack scoffed. “ _Men_.”

“What?” he asked, laughing in an unconvincingly innocent way. 

“Your chances for a threesome did not just improve.”

“Hey, you can’t blame a guy.”

Mack just shook her head again. They were both silent for a while, and Mack soon realized that was one of the few honest, intimate things she had told him, and that was about on par with the number of things he had told her. For a guy she had seen naked a frankly impressive number of times in the last few months, she knew very little about him and vice versa. She didn’t even have memories of him to fill in the gaps. Which was a good thing, really, because how weird would that be. But that meant all she had was some very biased secondhand information. It felt…wrong, somehow.

“How did you get into this?” she asked, searching for something.

“Get into what?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.”

He paused for a moment. “I used to work for the highest bidder. One time that was Coulson. A friend of mine died, and he caught me at a weak moment. Convinced me to work for something with a little meaning, and now I apparently have principles, dammit.”

Mack grinned. She suddenly had a thousand more questions, but at the same time felt less of a need to ask them.

“I’ve grown soft in my old age, I guess.”

Her grin turned wicked, and she reached down. She wrapped her hand around him and began to stroke lazily. “Hardly the words I’d use to describe you,” she murmured.

“How’d you get into physics?” he asked, hissing slightly at the end of the question when she tightened her grip.

“I’ve always liked science,” Mack said breezily. 

His silence demanded more. Mack sighed, trying to find a way to put into words what had drawn her to the field.

“There were times in my life I needed explanation. Times I needed more…structure. And physics explains everything. It’s the foundation of everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, biology is really just a special form of chemistry and chemistry is really just a special form of physics. And of course physics is really just math, but math’s boring. Everything that makes S.H.I.E.L.D. what it is – engineering and biochem, astronomy and weaponry – they all need physics. The _whole_ universe – ” Mack grinned secretively. “Multiple universes even, from planets to atoms, can be understood simply as physical forces drawing us closer together and forcing us back apart.”

“Hmm,” Hunter replied mischievously. He repositioned her, sliding out from under her body and immediately rolling on top. “I’d like to offer a practical demonstration of that concept, if you don’t mind.”

Mack laughed loudly, lifting both hands to his cheeks and pulling him into a kiss. “I don’t mind one bit.”

After kissing her again, he pushed himself up and away. “Just to be clear – _no_ chance of a threesome?”

Mack shook her head, deliberately slowly. “I don’t share,” she declared.

She pretended that the emotion in his eyes at that was simply desire, and that the heat of their kiss was stoked solely by lust.

**

“Another explosion?” Skye asked, feeling discouraged by the complete lack of leads in the case.

Bobbi nodded, following it up with a sigh. “Some more forensics will come through shortly. I’m going to go tell FitzSimmons about it now.”

“At least this case forces them to work together,” Skye pointed out. “Maybe they’ll figure out more than one problem, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Yes, Skye. Everyone knows what you’re saying.” Bobbi paused, then glanced at Skye out of the corner of her eye. “Do you think they will?”

Skye nodded. “They just need time, I think. They need to break through the communication wall. But they _will_ figure it out. Actually, that's my new philosophy - no interfering! I think the rest of us just make it worse by trying to get involved. They’re meant to be; nothing's gonna keep them apart for long.”

Bobbi shrugged. “Love doesn’t fix everything.”

Skye broke away, turning down an adjacent hall. “Trust me,” she called back. 

Bobbi shook her head, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it as she approached the bunks. She hoped they would work it out. They were miserable without each other, and they had a real opportunity to have something that most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents weren’t lucky enough to get. She wanted them to be happy. She wanted them to have a family. She wanted – 

The door between Fitz’ and Simmons’ bunks opened, and Bobbi stopped in her tracks. It was Hunter leaving Mack’s room, still pulling on his shirt. He turned around then, leaned back into the room, and said something too quietly for Bobbi to hear. When he came back out again, his smile was wide, wider than Bobbi had seen it for a long time. He closed the door and headed in the other direction, never once noticing that she was there. 

Love didn’t fix everything, though. Bobbi knew that firsthand. It wasn’t always enough, and sometimes people ended up happier when they took a different path.


	11. Chapter Ten

_Fitz looked up in concern at Jemma’s sigh. She had been working too hard lately, pretending as if there was absolutely nothing that might – or should – be slowing her down. If it were up to Fitz, she would be sitting with her feet up somewhere, relaxing with some light reading. But it wasn’t up to him and he was reluctant to suggest the idea and face her hormonal wrath. Even on days like this, when she was sore and tired and a bit weepy._

_“Jemma? Everything OK?”_

_She smiled up at him, even though it seemed a bit forced. “I’m fine. You worry too much.”_

_He walked over, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around her and sidle up for a cuddle. He bent down to kiss her neck even as he slid his hand over the growing expanse of her stomach._

_“It’s because I love both of you so much,” he murmured._

_Jemma hummed softly, leaning back against his chest. “We love you too,” she murmured, the smile clear in her voice._

_“How much do you love me? Enough to…” Fitz began coyly._

_Jemma chuckled. “To what?”_

_Her voice dripped with innuendo, and Fitz was nearly distracted from his true purpose. He was only human, after all. But Jemma’s health, and the baby’s, took precedence over his libido._

_“To go down to half days?”_

_Jemma sighed loudly and moved away from him. “Fitz.”_

_“You heard Dr. Turner,” Fitz reminded her. “Your blood pressure – ”_

_“Is slightly elevated. Should be monitored. That’s all, Fitz. There’s nothing to worry about.”_

_“I’m worried anyway. Coulson himself has approved it and found temp - temporary staff. We don’t need you – ”_

_Jemma’s eyes flashed with indignation and Fitz immediately stopped talking. After a moment, he changed course. “We will somehow manage to survive without you in the lab.”_

_She turned away from Fitz and didn’t respond for a long moment. He hesitated, afraid to continue pushing, and then there was a loud sniff. Immediately, he rushed over to her and pulled her into his arms again._

_“I’ve been in a lab nearly every day since I was a child,” she muttered into his neck. “I can’t give up science just because I’m going to be a mother.”_

_“I know.”_

_“If you all go out in the field without me, I can’t protect you.”_

_Fitz nodded and ran a hand down her back. “I know.”_

_“I swore I’d never leave you again.”_

_He stepped away from her and held her at arm’s length. “Jemma, you’re not leaving me. I’m asking you to do this for the baby, for our future. We’ll still see each other every day and sleep in the same bed every night.”_

_“But this is us, Fitz,” she continued, her sniffles turning to sobs. “S.H.I.E.L.D. – the lab, the team. It’s where we – where we fell in love. We’re supposed to be by each other’s side, remember?”_

_“Jemma…this is just for a little while. We’ll have the rest of our lives to work together. But right now, we’re working on our most important exp – experiment yet. And it’s time to let it…incubate.”_

_Jemma laughed through her tears. Eventually, she nodded. “Half days.”_

_Fitz grinned. “Thank you. And I’ll check on you every afternoon. And wait on you hand and foot. You’re going to love it so much, you might decide to never come back.”_

_The look she gave him was pretty skeptical._

**

Fitz looked up in concern at Jemma’s sigh. She had been working too hard lately, pretending as if there was absolutely nothing that might – or should – be slowing her down. If it were up to Fitz, she would be sitting with her feet up somewhere, relaxing with some light reading. But it wasn’t up to him and he was reluctant to suggest the idea and face her hormonal wrath. Even on days like this, when she was sore and tired and a bit weepy.

He dropped his gaze again, not wanting to let on that he was staring. He _still_ hadn’t figured out something to say, as Mack had suggested, or maybe he just hadn’t worked up the courage. But they at least were now able to be in the same room without too much tension, and even work on some of their joint projects again, like this bombing case. The day with the crib, when Jemma had felt the baby kick, had been a turning point of sorts. But things were hardly resolved. Fitz stifled a sigh of his own.

Across the lab room, Jemma stood up. She took a rather wobbly step towards the opposite counter, then stopped abruptly. Fitz half-stood himself, alarmed at her “ _Oh_. Oh, Fitz, I don’t – ”

She reached one hand out to grab hold of the table for support just as her knees buckled. And Fitz was out of his chair and by her side before he could even truly process what was happening. 

“Jemma? Jemma?!”

In her current state, she was too heavy for him, and the best he could manage was a controlled collapse to the floor. 

“Help!” he shouted.

**

“Bed rest?” Jemma burst into laughter. That soon faded, however, when she realized May wasn’t laughing with her. “I have weeks left, May. _Months_ , really. You can’t be serious,” she added in a near-whisper.

“Deadly serious.”

“But…”

“No buts. You’re relieved of all your duties, effective immediately.”

“May – ”

“Dr. Turner says your blood pressure is erratic and too high – I can’t imagine what’s been causing you undue stress. That’s why you fainted.”

“I didn’t _faint_ ; I never lost consciousness. I just…stood up too fast and got dizzy.”

May leveled a stoic expression at her.

“What if I promise to just take it easy?” Jemma tried to bargain. “Half days?”

“Dr. Turner isn’t diagnosing anything official _yet_ , but thinks you are at risk for premature delivery, among other complications.”

Jemma shook her head. “I’m sure he’s just being overly cautious.”

“Is one of your Ph.D.s in Obstetrics?”

Jemma lost her bravado then, and her lower lip started to tremble. “Please, May,” she whispered. “I can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

“ _Just sit here_. Thinking and – and – I need to work. I need the distraction.”

May sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her. “Maybe it will help if you reduce your stressors.”

Jemma swallowed, knowing what May was suggesting and longing to agree. If she just had some clue how he... 

May interrupted her thoughts. “I know you understand what this could develop into, Jemma. You and the baby could both die.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? The thing that could put everything back into perspective for both of them. Or the thing that could end up trapping him out of obligation. Jemma didn’t care though. For perhaps the first time since that night in the exam room, the night the baby was conceived, she said out loud the one thing she desperately wanted.

“May? Could you…find Fitz please?”

May actually smiled. If Jemma hadn’t been so nervous, she would’ve probably been more impressed by the rare occurrence. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” At Jemma’s confused head tilt, May added, “His blood pressure is probably through the roof too. I don’t need to find him; he’s been outside this room, wearing a spot in the floor from all his pacing, since they brought you in here.”

Jemma’s lips quivered, not quite able to form a smile yet. “Get him, please.”

**

Fitz froze when the door to the room opened. He whirled to face May as she exited, and struggled to find his voice.

“Is – is she…?”

May nodded. “She’s OK. She wants to see you.”

Fitz felt paralyzed for one horrible moment. And then he rushed past May and into the room. Jemma was sitting up in the bed, surrounded by pillows. Objectively, she looked a mess – her hair unruly, her eyes red-rimmed, her make-up smudged, her clothes wrinkled. But Fitz was pretty sure she had never been more beautiful.

He stopped just inside the door, swallowing thickly as they held eye contact. She held one hand up, reaching out for him, and it felt almost like an out of body experience when he closed the distance between them and grabbed it. He sat carefully on the bed and lifted his other hand to stroke her hair.

“Jemma, are you – ”

“I’m fine, Fitz.”

Fitz nodded dumbly, swallowed again, and tried not to notice how much his hand was shaking. “I was so…worr-worried.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I – I haven’t been taking the best care of myself, I guess. They want me to go on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy.”

“Then that’s what you’ll do,” Fitz said firmly. “I will handcuff you to this bed if I have to.”

Jemma gave him an incongruous little smile. “We should probably come up with a safe word before we start experimenting with BDSM.”

Fitz blinked. Then blinked again. It felt like his heart had skipped a beat, turned a somersault in his chest, then starting racing away at three times its usual pace. “Huh?”

“But I’m afraid we’ll have to put that off until after the baby. I’m pretty sure that’s far too strenuous of an activity for someone who’s supposed to be on bed rest.”

Fitz’ brow furrowed and he shook his head. He shifted closer to her, dropping his gaze to where they still held hands. “Jemma,” he said, breaking off to clear his throat. “I – I need you to tell me that there’s no chance for something mm-more between us or that you lo – love me as much as I love you, but I can’t do this in-between anymore. I can’t keep acting like – like – ”

Jemma cut him off. She apparently had found a very effective way of finishing his sentences when he fumbled for the words. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth and getting a little thrill at the resulting moan. It was at least a full minute later by the time they pulled away from each other. She placed her hands on his cheeks and locked her eyes on his. Fitz knew his breath was shaky and his expression still confused but all he could really focus on was her.

“I love you, Fitz,” she told him, her voice steady and just louder than a whisper. “I have for some time, even before all this, but everything’s been so… It’s very possible I love you even more than you love me.”

Fitz breathed out a laugh, his whole body feeling like it was collapsing in relief. “Definitely not possible.” She opened her mouth to argue the point, and Fitz shook his head. “No fighting. Gotta keep your stress levels down.”

Jemma narrowed her eyes at him in mock annoyance, and then they were kissing again. 

**

Mack knocked, carefully and quietly, on the door before pushing it open and peeking around the corner. Jemma gave her a more than welcoming expression and waved her into the room. Mack entered the rest of the way, feeling strangely relieved. While they had started out fairly well, Jemma had been more and more distant with her lately, avoiding her outside of professional obligations. Mack wanted to believe that was because of pregnancy issues, but she hadn’t pushed anyone else away. Well, anyone else besides Fitz. But judging by the way he was bouncing with giddiness all over the place and spending most of his time in Jemma’s room, Mack was pretty sure her parents were, at last, on the same page. And while she had admittedly fallen down on the job with that, she could still sort of take credit for it anyway. It _was_ her who gave Jemma high blood pressure, after all. Besides everything else was moot if she didn’t accomplish her ultimate goal.

But that was still months away, and it was time to try again with her mom. 

She held up the bag of stuff she brought. “Quarantine survival kit. Deck of cards, trashy magazines, et cetera.”

Jemma smiled and then almost immediately furrowed her brow. “What did you call it?”

Mack hesitated. “Quarantine survival kit,” she said slowly.

“Hmm,” Jemma observed, seeming a bit distracted, like she was trying to remember something she had seen or heard before. Mack felt a little nervous, but then Jemma smiled again and reached out for the bag.

“Thank you very much. I don’t suppose you have a cake with a file baked into it somewhere in this bag.”

Mack laughed. “Nope. I’m in cahoots with your jailers.”

Jemma offered her a small smile in response, and then they were both awkwardly silent for a long beat.

“How – how are you feeling?”

Jemma shrugged. “Bored mostly. Worried that something will go wrong.” She looked down at her stomach and placed her hand on top of the bump. The smile that grew on her face was almost blinding, and Mack’s heart hurt at the simple yet overwhelming love in it. “Mostly just anxious to meet this little one.”

Mack stepped forward and sat in the guest chair pulled up alongside the bed. “Have – have you always wanted children?”

“No!” Jemma laughed somewhat self-deprecatingly and looked up at her. “I didn’t _not_ want children, though. It just wasn’t something I ever thought about. My priorities were science, S.H.I.E.L.D., and Fitz, not necessarily in that order. Now that he’s about to be here, I’m – well, I’m still not sure how my life will change, but I’m excited for that change.”

“He?”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Just a feeling. Fitz is convinced it’s a girl.”

“I’m gonna side with him,” Mack said, trying not to grin. 

“You…do that a lot. Have the same opinions about things. You too are…very similar. I’m – I’m glad that you get along so well.”

Mack tilted her head, uncertain what Jemma was trying to say. “Like I said before, he’s pretty great.”

Jemma nodded, then looked down towards her lap again. She wrung her hands, before inhaling deeply. “I’m…sorry if I’ve been – weird, I guess. With you. I couldn’t figure out why he was being so – and I thought – I thought you two were – it had been such a spontaneous – I think some part of me was afraid he regretted it and – and felt stuck when he really wanted – ”

Mack’s eyes widened in sudden realization, and she burst into laughter. Jemma’s affronted expression only set her off more. It took quite some time before she was calm enough to speak again. 

“I can’t stress enough how much I’m not interested in Fitz.”

“He’s a _great_ catch.”

“No, I know.”

“Any woman would be _lucky_ to be with him.”

Mack shook her head, waving her hand in some sort of apologetic, dismissive gesture. “Really, I know. It’s just – he’s not my type.”

“What is your type then? Unattractive, mean, dumb men with no sense of humor?” Jemma asked with a little huff.

Mack laughed even harder, picturing Hunter’s face if he heard himself described in such a way. Not – not that he was her _type_. Not that he was anything. He was just a way to pass the time. Suddenly things didn’t seem so funny anymore. Mack shook her head, forcing her focus back to Jemma.

“Even if I were interested in Fitz, which I’m _not_ , it wouldn’t matter. He’s nuts about you.”

Jemma grinned, her mood immediately turning from offended to schmoopy. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. I’m pretty nuts about him too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, yes. Dr. Turner is a shout-out to Call the Midwife.


	12. Chapter Eleven

_“Louis, Ernst, Gregor – ” She trailed off when Fitz’ chuckles became too loud to ignore. “What?”_

_“Did you just Google famous scientists?”_

_“Excuse me. I don’t need_ Google _.”_

_“Sorry. Please continue. But I will use one of my vetoes if your next name is Zhores.”_

_Fitz hid his grin at her eye roll and accompanying “Oh, Fitz.”_

_“No, really. What else do you have?”_

_Jemma paused. When she spoke again, her voice was a little shaky. “Antoine. For Lavoisier or…”_

_“Triplett.”_

_They were both silent, and then Jemma nodded. “That’s all I have so far. Your turn. Girls’ names.”_

_Fitz shifted slightly on the bed, cleared his throat, and lifted his paper. Then he put it down again, reaching his other hand up to scratch at the side of his head._

_“I only have one.”_

_“One?”_

_“It could work for a boy or girl, really.”_

_Jemma paused. “OK. What is it?”_

_“Um. Ah. M – Mackenzie.”_

_When she didn’t reply after a moment, he glanced up at her quickly. Her eyes were teary, and a wobbly sort of smile was spreading across her face. Fitz shrugged._

_“I owe him a lot.”_

_“I think I owe him even more,” Jemma observed._

_They held each other’s eyes for another beat, and then, without looking away, Jemma ripped up the paper in her hands._

**

“Louis, Ernst, Gregor – ” She trailed off when Mack’s horrified stare became impossible to ignore. “What?”

“Did you just Google famous scientists?”

“Excuse me. I don’t need _Google_.”

Mack shifted her attention to Fitz. “You better hope it’s a girl.”

He lifted an arm, the one not wrapped around Jemma’s shoulders, and crossed his fingers. “I will use one of my vetoes if Zhores is on that list.”

Jemma huffed. “So what girls’ names have you come up with then?”

“I’m working on it,” Fitz replied, somewhat defensively. 

Mack – Big Mack – chuckled and then leaned forward. He gathered up the cards strewn on the rolling table angled across Jemma’s bed, shuffled them quickly and began to deal.

“One more, then we gotta go.”

Mack grabbed her cards and then paused. “Let’s play for something a little more interesting than bragging rights,” she suggested.

“Like what?” Fitz asked warily.

“ _Naming_ rights.”

Jemma snorted. “Oh no. I don’t trust you at all.”

“Hey! I could come up with some good names! Better than _Ernst_.”

“Like what?”

“Um…just tossing this one out there…Mackenzie.”

Both Jemma and Fitz were speechless, while Big Mack’s laughter boomed throughout the room. “Gets my vote,” he said.

“Just what we need,” Jemma finally managed to say. “Another Mackenzie running around the Playground.”

Mack shrugged. “Two cards,” she requested, and Big Mack handed them to her.

“I’ll take one,” Fitz said.

“Oh no,” Jemma disagreed, her neck stretched as she looked over his shoulder. “You better do two. Look, you could get a – ”

“Would you stop looking at my cards, you cheater?” Fitz demanded in mock anger.

The game was over quickly, with Jemma winning despite Fitz’ protests at her less than honest methods of looking at his cards and playing the “pregnant card.” Both Macks left shortly thereafter and Fitz and Jemma immediately looked at each other.

“Mackenzie,” they said at the same time, matching smiles spreading across their faces.

**

Mack slowly blinked her eyes open. The room was much darker than it had been the last time she was fully aware of her surroundings. She turned slightly, pushing off Hunter’s chest to look around. The Playground’s settings had switched to late night, and his alarm clock showed 3:00 in the morning. Mack sighed and turned towards Hunter again. Her eyes had started to adjust and she could just see his profile, looking somewhat off from the angle. Mack breathed in and out slowly, convincing herself that she was just admiring his appearance and not doing anything silly like memorizing it.

Then she shifted her weight carefully so she didn’t disturb him as she prepared to crawl off the bed. She had just flipped the sheets off her body when he spoke, voice still rough and full of sleep.

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed.”

She faced him again. Maybe it was late enough and dark enough and he was half-asleep enough where she could say what she wanted to.

“I almost wish I could stay,” she whispered.

She could feel the force of his gaze on her, even through the dimness. 

“What’s stopping you?”

“Lance,” she began, his first name slipping out for the first time. 

But she didn’t have time to say anything else before he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss. It was lazy but tantalizing, and it sparked something inside her that demanded more. Mack slid one leg over his hips and smiled against his mouth when he shifted even closer and she felt him start to harden. They moved together slowly, and it felt like it lasted for hours. With every new caress, Mack sighed or moaned or whispered soft encouragements that she, for once, accepted might have been more than heat-of-the-moment nonsense.

**

The intimacy of the night was still fresh in Mack’s mind as she ate lunch with Jemma. She struggled with it, finally acknowledging to herself that things had changed with La – Hunter. Their…whatever it was…had developed into something it shouldn’t have. Something it couldn’t be. There was no future there, because her future was 25 years off from his. What had she thought about Julie once? That she was too old for her? What a laugh that was. Hunter would be in his 50s now – then – whenever.

Besides, whatever it was, it wasn’t _love_. Was it? 

“Jemma?”

Her mom glanced up from her lunch and offered her a small smile. “Hmm?”

“You and Fitz are, well, you’re really good now. And I was just wondering, um, what it feels like.”

“What do you mean?”

“To…be in love. To be in a real relationship.”

Jemma laughed shortly. “I’m the last one to ask. Look at how long it took me to figure out that I did like him like that and wanted to be with him.”

Mack shrugged. “Still.”

“You’ve never been in a real relationship?” Mack shook her head, and Jemma hesitated before asking, “Is this, um, about Hunter?” 

Mack gaped in surprise, and Jemma smiled. “I’ve figured some other things out too, now that I’m not worried you’re after Fitz.”

Mack exhaled a sharp laugh, then shrugged again. “I guess it’s about him. But not really. Maybe. I just – I don’t know. I’ve been with people – dated, had lovers, even some were fairly long-term. But I’ve never really pursued anything like what you and Fitz have. Too focused on my education and career. And too afraid, I guess.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Losing someone. Getting hurt.” Mack’s voice was nearly a whisper as she admitted truths she had never allowed herself to examine before. 

“Hate to break it to you, Mack, but that’s a fact of life,” Jemma said, though it was not unfeeling. “It was hard for me to accept that risk too. But it was worth it.”

**

“How has your day been?” Fitz asked, smiling as Jemma burrowed into his arms, their fingers linking together and their hands resting on top of the growing baby.

“Lovely. I read some new articles in _Science_ , and I had lunch and girl talk with Mack.”

Fitz smiled. “I’m glad you two are getting to know each other better. I always thought you would get on well.”

“I like her a lot,” Jemma admitted. “Especially since now I know she’s not trying to seduce you.”

“What?! Is _that_ why you – Jemma! I would have thought what happened the _first_ time you suggested there was something between us would have been enough to show you I only want you.”

Jemma grinned, twisting around so she could kiss his cheek. “Like you’ve never been foolishly jealous. Besides, it was a silly concern anyway. You two are far too similar to be a good romantic match.”

“You think so?”

“In looks _and_ personality.”

“I don’t know. She actually reminds me a lot of you. Well – some strange combination of you, Skye, Bobbi and May.”

“Ah,” Jemma observed. “The perfect woman.”

Fitz tilted his head in acknowledgement, and Jemma shot him a look. 

“What? You said it, not me.”

“Get out of my room.”

Fitz chuckled and tightened his embrace. He kissed the top of her head, then said, “You’re the perfect woman for me.”

**

It _wasn’t_ worth it, though. Mack knew that better than anyone. She knew how much it hurt to be the one left behind. To be abandoned. And she lo – liked Hunter enough not to just disappear without a trace, not to leave without any sort of goodbye, knowing she could never really give him a true explanation. Better to end it now, before things had a chance of getting even more complicated. Better to make him hate her than always wonder what had happened to her.

So when she was in the break room and he walked in, smiled at her, and stepped close enough for her to feel his warmth, she knew what she had to do. He reached out, gliding his fingers along her jaw as he leaned in for a kiss, but she pulled her head back and stepped away.

He flashed her a confused, maybe even hurt expression. “Something wrong?”

Mack shrugged, finding a coldness within her as she answered, “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Maybe we should…” What were the words she had heard rumors of before, the ones Bobbi had used and he had hated so much… “Slow things down.”

He stepped back. “Slow things down,” he repeated, his voice hard.

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve had a bit of fun, but – ”

“Right. OK. You know what I think? I think things got real last night and that scared you.”

Mack shook her head, facing him fully and drawing on every trick Bobbi and May ever taught her about lying to maintain a cover. “It’s not that. Things don’t get real for me. Ever. Since I’m not the divorced one in this conversation, I shouldn’t have to tell you there’s no such thing as happily ever after.”

“I’m not proposing here. I’m just saying we – ”

“It’s over, Hunter. It was nice while it lasted but I’m here for one reason and one reason only, and I won’t let you distract me anymore.”

“ _Distract_ you?”

“That’s all it ever was. If you want something different, go work things out with Bobbi.”

He shook his head, scoffing as he looked to the side. “Fine, whatever.” He walked towards the door, muttering to himself, “Bloody hell, I don’t know how I keep ending up with women like you two.”

“Maybe it isn’t us, Hunter. Parsimony would tell you to find the simplest explanation,” she tossed after him, twisting the knife as far as she could.

His only response was an “unbelievable” as he rounded the corner. She heard his palm slap against the wall, and she flinched at the sound. 

It was better this way. She needed to focus on why she was really there.


	13. Chapter Twelve

_“They broke up?”_

_Fitz nodded, confirming the gossip. Jemma gaped for a moment._

_“I kind of thought they’d make it work. Hunter’s obviously crazy about her, and she protests just a little too much,” she observed._

_“Well,” he said with a shrug. “They broke up. I really don’t think we should be concentrating on this right now, though.”_

_Jemma shook her head quickly, and then grimaced as another contraction struck. She grabbed onto the rail of the bed and leaned forward, dropping her head between her arms and letting out a long, low groan._

_“I need the distraction,” she gasped out. “I think we’re really just getting started, unfortunately.”_

_“I don’t think so,” Fitz countered. “Not with how close and strong your contractions are.”_

_Jemma laughed, somewhat breathlessly. “Look who’s been doing his research. And yet…”_

_He rubbed her back, trying to comfort her in some way. Finally, she sucked in a breath and straightened. Pushing off the bed and reaching out to hold his hand, she started walking again. “Tell me more.”_

_Fitz sighed, then nodded. “It’s not just a break-up.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I mean, this weekend’s mission was two miles outside of Vegas. It’s a divorce.”_

_Jemma stopped in her tracks and turned to face Fitz. “What?!”_

_As bad as he felt for his friends, he couldn’t hide his amusement at her reaction. He loved that he got to be the one to tell her the whole story. It reminded him far too much of their Academy days, when every lab period was filled with talking behind their classmates’ backs._

_“They left on Friday as exes with benefits, did the mission, took a detour to the Little White Chapel, and by the time Bobbi landed the Quinjet, they were at each other’s throats. Hunter’s talking to Coulson now about getting reassigned.”_

_“No!” Jemma objected, the word turning into a shout as her grip simultaneously ground the bones of Fitz’ hand against each other. He tried not to yell out himself. “I don’t want to lose any more of our team. We’re a family!”_

_Fitz offered her a sympathetic and understanding smile, but he knew it was a hopeless wish. “But I think they’d probably be better off, in the long run,” he pointed out._

_Jemma sighed, inhaled deeply and nodded. Then her face crumpled. “Oh my_ God _, Fitz, this is the worst.”_

_He moved closer to her, wrapping one arm around her torso to support her weight as they maneuvered back towards the bed._

_“I’m getting Dr. Turner,” he informed her in a tone that brooked no argument._

_It was the right call. In almost no time at all, Mackenzie was sleeping in her mother’s arms, and Fitz was staring at them both with an expression that radiated awe and joy. He wondered exactly how many days she had meant when she said she wouldn’t marry him until after the birth._

**

“They broke up?”

Fitz nodded, confirming the gossip. Jemma gaped for a moment.

“I kind of thought they’d make it work. Hunter’s obviously crazy about her, and she protests just a little too much,” she observed.

“Well,” he said with a shrug. “They broke up. I really don’t think we should be concentrating on this right now, though.”

Jemma shook her head quickly, and then grimaced as another contraction struck. She grabbed onto the rail of the bed and leaned forward, dropping her head between her arms and letting out a long, low groan. 

“I need the distraction,” she gasped out. “I think we’re really just getting started, unfortunately.”

“I don’t think so,” Fitz countered. “Not with how close and strong your contractions are.”

Jemma laughed, somewhat breathlessly. “Look who’s been doing his research. And yet…”

He rubbed her back, trying to comfort her in some way. Finally, she sucked in a breath and straightened. Pushing off the bed and reaching out to hold his hand, she started walking again. “Tell me more.”

Fitz sighed. “I don’t really know much more,” he said apologetically. “Hunter’s pretty upset, but he’s trying not to show it. It’s kind of weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, with Bobbi, it was non-stop complaining. Everyone knew how much and how often they were at each other’s throats. With Mack, he’s just…quiet.”

Jemma scoffed. “Hunter, quiet?”

As bad as he felt for his friends, he couldn’t hide his amusement at her reaction. He loved that he got to be the one to tell her the whole story. It reminded him far too much of their Academy days, when every lab period was filled with talking behind their classmates’ backs. 

“Very quiet. I think he fell hard, and he just wasn’t admitting it to himself. I think she did too. They’re both diligently ignoring each other. One of them might leave over this.”

“No!” Jemma objected, the word turning into a shout as her grip simultaneously ground the bones of Fitz’ hand against each other. He tried not to yell out himself. “I don’t want to lose any more of our team. We’re a family!”

Fitz offered her a sympathetic and understanding smile. “Might not be up to us,” he reminded her gently.

Jemma sighed, inhaled deeply and nodded. Then her face crumpled. “Oh my _God_ , Fitz, this is the worst.”

He moved closer to her, wrapping one arm around her torso to support her weight as they maneuvered back towards the bed.

“I’m getting Dr. Turner,” he informed her in a tone that brooked no argument.

It was the right call. In almost no time at all, Mackenzie was sleeping in her mother’s arms, and Fitz was staring at them both with an expression that radiated awe and joy. Jemma looked up at him, smiling wide and teary-eyed.

“Marry me,” he whispered.

She nodded. “OK.”

“As soon as possible.”

Her laugh was quiet yet happy. “I won’t be ready for…a wedding night.”

“So?”

Her smile grew impossibly wider and she nodded again. “OK,” she repeated.

**

“Another one?” Coulson sighed, flipping through the pages of the report and feeling almost desensitized to the images of yet another bomb’s debris.

“There’s a video this time too. They’re calling themselves the Order of Vidar.”

“Oh good,” Coulson replied. “I love when they give themselves names. What’s Vidar?”

May turned to Bobbi, who took over the briefing. “Norse god of vengeance, apparently Thor’s half-brother. In the myths, he’s supposed to avenge his father’s death. And…”

Coulson’s expression was impatient. He rolled his hand to prompt more. “And?”

Bobbi sighed. “The Well. You might remember one of the etchings was the symbol for vengeance.”

Coulson made a slight face, turning in his chair enough to break eye contact. “She doesn’t _seem_ like a threat.”

“Neither did Ward,” May observed.

“OK,” Coulson replied, shaking his head. “I’ll talk to her and get to the bottom of this once and for all. And then I’m sending you two to Norway. But not until after this weekend. We all deserve a nice celebration.”

“Who doesn’t love weddings?” May asked, completely deadpan.

**

It wasn’t every person that got to attend their parents’ wedding, and Mack was feeling the honor keenly. She kind of wished they’d get the show on the road, but she had attended enough weddings to know they never started on time. Meanwhile, she was enjoying herself standing off to the side of the group waiting in the hangar. They had some chairs set up and, in the corner, a little dance floor and buffet table. For now, though, they were all cooing over the baby in “Auntie” Skye’s arms.

Mack understood, of course. She was a pretty damn cute baby. 

She stepped a little closer, weirdly afraid to get too close. Peeking over Skye’s shoulder, she smiled at…herself. 

“Want to hold her?” Skye asked.

“No! My turn!” Bobbi interrupted. 

Mack laughed as Skye transferred…Baby Mack over to Bobbi. The jostling was just enough to wake her slightly, and her eyes managed to catch, albeit unseeingly, Mack’s own. She felt a sudden sharp pain in her head, and the baby started crying loudly, the sound echoing throughout the hangar.

“Jesus,” Hunter muttered behind her, and Mack turned in surprise. “Again? All that kid’s done is whinge.”

“It’s a _baby_ , Lance,” Bobbi reminded him unnecessarily. “What did you expect?”

“Cry, sleep, and piss herself.”

“Sounds like you when you’re drunk.”

Bobbi and Hunter made half-hearted faces at each other, and Mack awkwardly stepped aside, trying to retreat back to her place on the outskirts of the group. As she moved, Bobbi surprised Hunter by putting the baby in his arms. He immediately balked, holding her as far away from himself as possible.

“I don’t like this.”

Bobbi scoffed. “You’re such a natural.”

“This is weirding me out for some reason.”

Mack kept walking then, intent to see if Jemma needed any help. She didn’t really care to listen to any more of the Bobbi and Hunter Show.

**

The ceremony was beautiful, full of laughter and tears, perhaps most especially from Coulson, who officiated. And now Mack couldn’t take her eyes off the small family sitting at one of the tables. Jemma held her baby, and Fitz had his arm around her shoulders, leaning over to caress the little bundle. Mack felt a lump in her throat and stinging at her eyes. She wondered what it would have been like to grow up with them. As happy as she had been as a child, loved and secure in the knowledge that she was, how would things have been different?

And as May had warned once, could things have been worse?

She didn’t think so. Or she wouldn’t let herself think so at any rate. No point in questioning the mission now. 

“Care to dance?”

The question startled her, and Mack jumped as she turned and looked up at Coulson. She hesitated for a moment, then stood. He led her to the dance floor, Mack having flashbacks to the Koenigs’ poor attempt at throwing a prom for her, to dancing around to old records in Pops’ office as a child with her feet on top of his, to singing into her hairbrush microphone with Daisy and Bobbi as backup while they bounced around to the latest pop songs when she was 13. 

“I’d like to speak with you,” Coulson said as soon as they had reached the center of the floor and got into position.

“What about?”

“Have FitzSimmons brought you in on the bomb investigation?”

“No. Not really.”

He spun her around and then pulled her back into his arms. “Bombs in Norway, several of them so far. They’re being set off by a group calling themselves the Order of Vidar.”

Mack felt her heart start to pound. The tone of his voice wasn’t helping her nerves at all either.

“We’ve seen their symbol before. On the item that came in with you.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve let this go long enough, Mack. But now you need to tell me what you know.”

Mack swallowed. She couldn’t find the right words to explain it. She couldn’t _risk_ explaining it, not now when she was so close to fixing everything.

“Are you a member of this Order?” he asked.

“No!” her response was a little loud, and she cringed when Skye and Big Mack, who were dancing a few feet away, looked over. “No,” she said quieter. “I’m S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Then – ”

“Po – Coulson, please, just trust me. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

“But you meant for us to find you. You’re connected to all this somehow.”

“Yes.”

“How can I trust you without any more information? I need to protect my people.”

Mack stopped moving, staring at him with wide eyes, trying not to feel hurt. Of all the people in her life who had ever trusted her, who had ever believed in her, Pops was always the first one in her corner. The most vocal in his love for her, the most reassuring when she felt like she didn’t quite belong. And now – she swallowed and blinked the tears away. Then she cast her mind around for _something_ that she…yes.

“I swear on Audrey’s life,” she vowed, pressing on even when his eyes went wide. “I’m here to help. I’m here to protect your people. But I can’t tell you everything yet. I will someday.”

He stared at her for a long time. Then he nodded. 

The song ended, and he guided her back to her seat. Leaving her there, he walked away, and she saw him meet up with May on the other side of the room. May gave her one penetrating stare, then turned to talk to Coulson. Mack breathed out slowly, looking around the room. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up.

And the sight of Bobbi and Hunter dancing, laughing quietly as they leaned closer to each other, didn’t help.

**

Bobbi shook her head, amused and annoyed at Hunter’s flippancy. He was having far too much fun recalling their wedding and comparing it to FitzSimmons’. Though, yes, Bobbi had to admit, there had been a little less romance and sense of “rightness” and a little more bloodshed and dish-smashing at theirs. Good times.

And then her brow furrowed, her thoughts turning more serious, more wistful. “You ever think about doing it again?”

He raised his head sharply, staring at her in shock and almost horror. “Us getting remarried?”

“God, no!”

The relief poured through him, and Bobbi told herself not to feel offended. She was equally opposed to the idea, after all. 

“We’re awful together,” she reminded him. “We can’t make it work, and we destroy everything when we try to.”

“Don’t have to tell me that.”

Bobbi grinned. “I just meant – you ever think about finding someone _else_ to marry?”

He shrugged, looking off to the side. Bobbi licked her lips, hesitant to ask what she really wanted to know. Wondering exactly how much he felt for someone she still didn’t fully trust. Then she steeled herself. 

“Someone like Mack?”

“I don’t think I’m his type.”

“Lance.”

He sighed and faced her again. “I don’t really think we should talk about this. I’m surprised you even want to.”

A little smile tugged at her lips and she tilted her head in self-deprecating acknowledgment. “Maybe I’m not the best person to be giving you romantic advice, but – contrary to your repeatedly stated beliefs, it’s not my goal in life to see you miserable. And you know I’m not the type of girl to fight over a guy. Fight _with_ a guy, yes, but not over one. You were happy with her, and I want that for you.”

He looked away again, his jaw clenching. “There’s nothing there anymore, so just drop it.”

**

Mack walked slowly down the halls, her shoes in her hand. She was taking the long way around, trying to sober up a bit before going to bed. After they had posed for a large group picture, the others had started to disperse, first May, then Skye with the baby, then Big Mack and Bobbi, then her parents, and so on. The closer it got to just being her and Hunter left, the more nervous she got. So she slipped out, taking a wide arc past the table where Hunter and Coulson were chatting over whiskey.

Mack sighed, wiped at her tired eyes, and then turned the corner. 

And then she immediately backed up again. After a moment, she peeked around the edge. Her parents hadn’t quite made it to their room before they started kissing. Mack watched, feeling strangely happy and strangely sad, as they held each other close, leaning against the wall and whispering quietly in between kisses.

A minute or two passed, and Mack began to feel like she should leave them or let them know she was there. But she couldn’t tear her eyes away. This was what love looked like. This was how her parents were meant to be with each other. This was the example she always should have had. 

And then her jaw dropped in shock as things suddenly started heating up. Her father pressed closer to her mother, his hands dropping down to fondle…places on her body, oh God. The soft whispers turned into little sighs and squeaks and then – and then. No. Jemma pushed Fitz away from her, holding him just far enough back so she could drop down, crumpling her dress beneath her knees. 

“What are you – ?” she heard Fitz ask, just before the sound of a zipper being lowered.

“Can’t do everything,” Jemma replied. “But I can do this.”

Fitz gasped, one hand going to the wall to brace himself. And Mack whirled around, pressing her own back to the wall she was hiding behind. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images were probably forever burned into her brain. Ew. Ew. _Ewwwwww_.

An “Oh God, Jemma” broke through her internal screaming, and Mack pushed off the wall, hurrying away.

“Nope,” she muttered to herself. “Nope, nope, nope.”


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_“She’s incredible.”_

_“The most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Jemma confirmed. “And I’ve seen a lot of amazing things.”_

_Fitz grinned at her, then looked back down at baby Mack. “We made her,” he whispered._

_Jemma nodded, smiling even wider. “I think we can record this experiment a success, Dr. Fitz.”_

_“We’ll have to replicate it a few more times to be sure.”_

_Jemma’s immediate laugh in response was perhaps just a bit derisive. She looked up at Fitz again, an expression of incredulity more than apparent on her face. “We’ll be waiting a while for that. A long while.”_

_Fitz shrugged, fighting a smile as he reached out to softly tickle the baby. She squirmed in Jemma’s arms, then went back to sucking away at her breast. Fitz was a little jealous. Then his watch beeped, and he was even more jealous of Jemma for getting to stay with her._

_“Gotta go. The lab is calling my name.”_

_She nodded, tilting her head up for a kiss. “See you this afternoon.”_

_“Mmm. I’ll stop by at lunch.”_

_Jemma laughed. “No, I mean I’ll be in the lab this afternoon.”_

_“Are you sure you want to?” Fitz asked, knowing that Jemma, despite her claims otherwise, had been struggling with the decision of when exactly to begin resuming her role on the team._

_“I’m sure. And this one will be spending her afternoon with Coulson, who won the battle for the privilege and has taken to calling himself her_ Pops _.”_

_Fitz chuckled. “OK, then. See you this afternoon.”_

_“Yep. We’re going to solve these bombings soon, Fitz. I can feel it.”_

**

“She’s incredible.”

“The most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Jemma confirmed. “And I’ve seen a lot of amazing things.”

Fitz grinned at her, then looked back down at baby Mackenzie. “We made her,” he whispered.

Jemma nodded, smiling even wider. “I think we can record this experiment a success, Dr. Fitz.”

He opened his mouth to hint about having more someday, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. They both turned to it, and Jemma called out for the person to enter. It opened a crack and Mack stuck her head through, a wide smile on her face.

“Just came to check on you three!”

“Come in, come in,” Jemma said, and Fitz adjusted his position on the bed so he could see between them easier. “Did you want to hold Kenzie?” 

Mack’s eyes widened and she hesitated a bit before reaching out for her. Almost immediately, the baby started fussing, and Mack made a strange sort of face.

“You better take her back,” she said.

“Are you sure? She just needs to get used to other people, I think.”

“No. Yeah. I just – I have a bit of a headache and I’m afraid I might be coming down with something.”

Fitz choked back a laugh at how quickly Jemma took the baby. He refused to admit he had almost beaten her to it, though.

“Anyway,” Mack said, stepping further back and seeming to relax a bit even as the baby calmed. “Kenzie?”

Jemma scrunched her nose. “We’re trying it out. It’s kind of cute,” she explained. “And might cause less confusion.”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, maybe as a nickname sometimes but…she just really looks like a Mack.”

“You think so?”

“I do. And I mean, we’ve got Big Mack and Baby Mack to keep it straight. Plus, we’re all smart people. We can probably figure it out from context.”

Jemma looked up at Fitz. He shrugged. “I don’t care. I like Mack.”

“Just not the whole Mackenzie FitzSimmons,” Mack said, grinning. “She’ll think she’s in trouble.”

“Oh,” Jemma disagreed, focusing on the baby again. “My child would never break any rules.”

Fitz snorted and Mack shot him an amused, strangely knowing glance.

**

As she walked towards the briefing room, Bobbi was almost too distracted to notice Hunter slow to a stop ahead. She nearly ran into him before she caught herself, and then looked around to see what the problem was.

Mack.

She might have guessed.

The thing was, she had been honest before. She wanted him to be happy. And if that was with Mack, fine. While she still was skeptical, Coulson had told her that Mack could be trusted. In some ways, she thought she could be good friends with Mack – they had enough in common, and she seemed pretty cool. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but hate her for what she was doing to Hunter. 

Yeah, OK, that was pretty hypocritical, considering everything. Nonetheless…

Mack glanced up and saw Hunter. She stumbled a bit, and her mouth opened and closed like she wanted to say something. Then she looked over his shoulder at Bobbi, blushed, and started walking again, ducking her head as she entered the conference room. Hunter twisted and saw Bobbi himself. He offered her a small, weak smile, and followed Mack. Bobbi sighed, moving again as she entered the room and took her usual seat. 

“Let’s get started,” Coulson was already saying. “First, the bombings. FitzSimmons?”

Fitz shook his head, and Bobbi could feel the palpable frustration in the room from all of them. “We’re trying to track the materials. We’ve got some leads suggesting it’s a couple – ”

“Named Brevig,” Jemma interjected. “The wife might be in a few frames of the video put out by the Order, but facial recognition isn’t conclusive.”

Fitz nodded and concluded, “It’s just taking time.”

“Speed it up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“May, you and Bobbi are still planning to head to Norway?”

May nodded, and Bobbi confirmed, “Tomorrow, at least for a few days. Maybe we’ll be able to find out something.”

“OK.” Coulson paused as he shifted gears. “There’s something else. Skye?”

Skye swiped her tablet, and images started to appear on the screen.

“Freakishly large snowstorms, an out of season tornado, and a couple dormant volcanoes making some disturbing rumbles. All in the last month or so. In short, the world is throwing a temper tantrum to rival Baby Mack.”

“Hey!” Jemma said, and Skye winked at her. 

“I had a call from Randolph this morning,” Coulson continued. “He’s concerned this isn’t just extreme global warming. He says these are signs, things he’s seen before, and heard about happening in other realms.”

“Signs of what?” Hunter asked.

“Something’s disturbing the very fabric of space and time. An incongruity of things coexisting that shouldn’t, causing the universe to attempt to correct itself. Mack?”

Mack fumbled her pen, dropping it to the table, and Bobbi looked at her, feeling slightly suspicious again. 

“Don’t look at me; I didn’t do it.”

The look Coulson gave her was an odd one, but then he simply said, “You’re the physicist. I’m putting you in charge of this. Hopefully you can figure out a way to fix it.”

She nodded, eyes wide, and Bobbi’s narrowed. “I might be able to come up with something.”

Seemingly against her will, Mack looked at Hunter then. They held eye contact for a moment; Bobbi could almost feel the tension crackling in the room. Mack turned away again, and a few minutes later, Coulson ended the meeting. Mack was the first out of the room, followed quickly by FitzSimmons already talking about the bombings. Hunter held back, though, and Bobbi waited just on the other side of the door to eavesdrop.

“Hey boss,” he began. “Got a minute?”

“What is it, Hunter?”

“I want – to talk to you about a transfer.”

Bobbi closed her eyes and sighed, before stepping away to go find May and plan their trip.

**

Several weeks later, Fitz and Jemma were no closer to solving the bombings, despite the increasing pressure, but Jemma believed they were about to make a breakthrough. Mack wished she could help them, guide them in the right direction using her insider knowledge, but she was facing some looming deadlines of her own. Each day she monitored the reports, looking for new catastrophes, knowing she’d been lucky so far and it was only a matter of time before someone else died because of her. And she knew exactly how to stop that from happening.

But she couldn’t stop it yet. 

Not for another hour or two.

She felt sick to her stomach, knowing it was the day. The one she had marked all her life. The one she had been attempting to reach when she traveled back in time – and she could only hope her new calculations, the ones she worked on when she pretended she was investigating the disasters, would return her a little closer to her target day. 

As soon as it was finished, she’d go back. She couldn’t risk delaying any longer. Even if she had grown to love this team as much as she loved her own. Even if part of her might want to stay for…other reasons. She obviously couldn’t. 

She’d have to go back, knowing that she had no idea what to expect in the new future. Knowing that, after everything, they might still be gone, or that anyone and everyone else she loved might be as well. Knowing that she’d never be with H – 

Mack swallowed and concentrated on her calculations again. She bent over the table, pushing away her neglected lunch. She needed to get this right. She needed to be ready to go when the time came. She needed to have nothing to worry about on the mission other than to make sure they all returned from it. 

A siren sounded, and Mack nearly puked when she realized what it was – an alarm calling them all into the briefing room. Her parents’ killer had arrived.

Mack glanced up at her parents, interrupted from their own lunch in the corner of the room, and she looked at her younger self, sleeping soundly far enough away from Mack not to cause any pain and ignorant of the bustle of the agents around her. Jemma walked over and pulled the baby from her bassinet, and she and Fitz headed out towards the conference room. Mack followed slowly.

“Another electric surge,” Coulson was saying, as she took her seat around the table. “Images show what looks like an object on the ground. We’re classifying it as an 084 until we know for sure. FitzSimmons, you want to be in charge of recovery?”

“Oh! Yes!” Jemma said before anyone else could speak. “I’ve been dying to get back in the field.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Big Mack asked, gruff worry sneaking into his voice. “Both of you going?”

Her parents turned to smile at him. “Come on, Mack,” Fitz said. “It’s just an 084.”

“We’ve done it hundreds of times,” Jemma added, a tad mockingly.

“I’m just saying, Coulson – ”

“Ah,” Fitz interrupted, laughing. “You just haven’t had your weekly argument with Coulson yet.”

“Focus,” Coulson broke in. He looked at May, who shrugged, and Bobbi, who nodded, and Mack knew that Big Mack had lost that round. 

Before he could say anything else, she jumped into the conversation. “I think I should go too.”

She ignored both Bobbi’s and Hunter’s eyes on her, keeping her own gaze locked firmly on Coulson. He held eye contact for a while, and then nodded, seeming to understand what she was saying.

“Maybe I should go too,” Bobbi said, her voice sounding like Mack remembered from every time she was about to do something stupid and Bobbi knew it.

Mack didn’t even look at her. She just let her head twitch in the barest hint of a shake, and Coulson inhaled and looked away. “No,” he said. “We don’t all need to go. FitzSimmons and Mack will do the recovery, and Skye can run comms from the jet.”

“Sounds good, boss,” Skye said. “Let’s go suit up.”

**

Mack’s hands trembled as she fastened one of the Velcro straps on her vest. The others were ready to go and already out by the jet, but she was having difficulty. Her body didn’t seem to want to listen to her instructions, and she could only hope that fixed itself soon. It wouldn’t do to freeze in terror again, like she had the first time she was in the field.

Someone came into the room, and Mack looked up. She felt a sense of déjà vu as Hunter offered her a quick smile, then walked closer. 

“They’re waiting for you. Let me help.”

She found it difficult to concentrate as he took over the straps, pulling them tighter around her before securing them. He pressed down on the Velcro, and Mack wobbled a bit from the force, but she didn’t step away. His hands lingered, and his fingers ever so lightly stroked along her side. Her pulse started to speed up, and she felt her shoulders lifting with every deep breath. Mack swallowed, trying to get some moisture in her dry throat, while simultaneously blinking the extra moisture from her eyes. 

She stepped away quickly, and turned to face him.

“Thanks. I should be going.”

He hesitated a moment, then nodded. Mack held his eyes for one last beat, licked her lips, then walked past him. She was almost to the door before he called out her name.

When she faced him again, he gave a little, self-deprecating eye roll. “Just…don’t die out there, yeah?”

“It’s a simple 084 recovery,” she said, trying to ignore the tremor in her voice. “What could go wrong?”


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_“You know, it’s Mack’s 10 week birthday today.”_

_Fitz nodded. “I know. She should be able to recognize familiar faces soon. I mean, for real, not just what you claim is real when she smiles in your direction.”_

_Jemma laughed, threading her fingers through Fitz’ as they walked closer to the site of the electric surge. “FitzSimmonses are precocious, remember. So…did you learn anything else in your research about guidelines for post-baby milestones?”_

_Her tone was particularly coy, and Fitz felt like he must be missing something. “Um. She should start staying awake longer during the day?”_

_Jemma looked at him, smiled slyly, and looked forward again. “That wasn’t what I meant.”_

_“What did you mean?”_

_“Just…there are some other things that I think can probably finally happen now too.”_

_Fitz furrowed his brow, still feeling confused. But just then, Skye interrupted them both with a “Jesus, guys, you know I can hear you, right?”_

_Fitz’ mouth dropped open. “Oh! You mean…that.”_

_Jemma winked at him, and Fitz gulped._

_“Are you sure? I thought you needed to – ”_

_“It’s worth a try. If you want to.”_

_Fitz nodded rapidly, not even noticing Skye’s “Shoot me now.”_

_Needless to say, he was hardly focused by the time they reached the site. Jemma instead led the way to the bowl-like object on the ground. She crouched down to inspect it._

_“Don’t get too close,” Fitz reminded her needlessly._

_“Come look at this, Fitz,” she replied, not even acknowledging his statement. “It’s got some kind of weird etchings on it. They look almost – I’d swear they’re Asgardian.”_

_“Oh! Thor!”_

_Jemma chuckled. “You always say that and it never is.”_

_“Someday, Jemma.”_

_“Don’t move.”_

_Both Fitz and Jemma whirled at the unexpected voice. And then Fitz stumbled backwards in surprise when he saw the gun in the man’s hand. Mere moments later, he regained his balance and stepped in front of Jemma._

_“Just – sir, calm down,” he said, holding out his hands in a reassuring gesture. “We’re not here to – ”_

__

\------

_Skye flinched at the crack of the gunshot and Jemma’s almost immediate scream._

_“Jemma!” she shouted into the comm unit. “Fitz! Guys?!”_

_There was no response, but she could hear Jemma sobbing, “No. No, Fitz, please! Oh God, no.” Skye’s eyes opened wider and she held her breath. Her heart was pounding. And then suddenly, Jemma’s tone shifted, and it seemed to be directed towards the man, whoever he was. “No, please. I – I have a child.”_

_His voice came over the connection again. “So did they.”_

_Skye didn’t wait to hear anymore before she ran out of the plane, sprinting towards the site faster than she ever had before, not even sure what she’d do when she got there or what the threat was. She just knew she had to get there._

_But when she arrived, there was no threat. And there was nothing she could do. She slowed to a stop several feet away, staring in horror at – at the bodies, Fitz on his back and Jemma on top of him, their arms around each other somehow._

_Skye moved again, running up and dropping to her knees, trembling hands reaching out in a hopeless attempt to stop the bleeding. She looked around wildly, searching for the person who had done this and seeing no one, and then she turned back to Fitz and Jemma._

_“No,” she cried. “Wake up! Please wake up! Guys, please!”_

_Of course they didn’t respond. Skye fell forward, curling in on herself as she wailed. The whole world seemed to shake around her, the ground vibrating from her shrieks and the nearby trees swaying and cracking with the force of her grief._

**

“You know, it’s Mack’s 10 week birthday today.”

Fitz nodded. “I know. She should be able to recognize familiar faces soon. I mean, for real, not just what you claim is real when she smiles in your direction.”

Jemma laughed, threading her fingers through Fitz’ as they walked closer to the site of the electric surge. “FitzSimmonses are precocious, remember. So…did you learn anything else in your research about guidelines for post-baby milestones?”

Her tone was particularly coy, but Fitz was missing it entirely. Mack wished he wasn’t the only one. 

“Um. She should start staying awake longer during the day?”

Jemma looked at him, smiled slyly, and looked forward again. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“Just…there are some other things that I think can probably finally happen now too.”

Just then, Skye interrupted them both with a “Jesus, guys, you know I can hear you, right?”

“Me. Too.”

Jemma turned around and winked at Mack, who was trailing behind the lovebirds and would probably be more disgusted if she wasn’t on such high alert. Fitz didn’t look at her at all, but she could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was very embarrassed. Good. Time for one of them to start learning some boundaries and what made for appropriate – 

“Are you sure?” he nearly whispered, and Mack sighed. “I thought you needed to – ”

“It’s worth a try. If you want to.”

Fitz nodded rapidly, not even noticing Skye’s “Shoot me now” or Mack’s whimper.

Finally, they reached the site. Jemma led the way to the bowl-like object on the ground and crouched down to inspect it. Mack just looked around the clearing, before bending down and pulling out the small gun she had hidden in an ankle holster. She paused to feel thankful for the shooting lessons May had given her throughout childhood; she just hoped she wasn’t too rusty. And that she didn't freeze up uselessly this time.

“Don’t get too close,” Fitz reminded Jemma needlessly. 

“Come look at this, Fitz,” she replied, not even acknowledging his statement. “It’s got some kind of weird etchings on it. They look almost – Mack! It looks just like the Well that came in with you!”

“What?” Fitz moved closer, surprised and intrigued.

Mack simply hummed to indicate she had heard them. Where was he? _Where was he?_

“Don’t move.”

All three whirled at the voice, but he was focused on her parents alone. Apparently he saw Mack as someone expendable, someone to take care of after he achieved his true purpose, someone who posed no threat.

That would be his last mistake.

She watched as her dad stepped in front of her mom, holding out his hand in a reassuring gesture and opening his mouth to speak. And then she lifted her gun, aimed it quickly and pulled the trigger.

\------

Skye flinched at the crack of the gunshot and Jemma’s almost immediate scream.

“Jemma!” she shouted into the comm unit. “Fitz! Mack!”

There was no response.

“Guys, come in!”

After an unbearably long pause, there was a slight crackle over comms, and then Jemma’s voice came through.

“We’re fine, Skye.” Skye exhaled in relief, the tension flowing out of her body. “You better call in a clean-up crew to get rid of this body, though.

Body?!

**

The gun fell out of Mack’s numb fingers and dropped to the ground. Thankfully, it didn’t go off. It would be just her dumb luck to accidentally shoot them after everything. She breathed unsteadily for a few moments, not quite able to accept that it was over. She had done it. She swallowed and looked up at her parents. They were both staring at her in shock.

“Are you guys OK?” she managed to say.

It took a moment, but Fitz nodded. 

“How did you know?” Jemma asked, her voice a whisper. “You were ready for him. How did you know?”

Mack shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. The lie came easily. “Something didn’t feel right. Maybe I was just antsy from the last time.”

Her parents looked at each other, seemed to communicate with their eyes alone, and then looked back at her. 

“Good thing you were,” Jemma said. Mack could tell they didn’t quite believe her but were willing to trust her. 

“Skye will be here soon,” Fitz observed, mostly to Jemma. She nodded, her eyes never leaving Mack’s.

“We need to move quickly then. This Well, Mack. What do you – what do you think we should do with it?”

Mack blinked. “I’ll take care of it,” she said. “Just put it into one of the bags for now.”

They moved then, doing as she instructed without questioning. All three of them gave the body a wide berth, doing their best to ignore it. Only minutes later, Skye appeared followed by the newly arrived clean-up team. They took one look around, then got to work while Skye rushed over to the others.

“What happened? Are you guys OK?”

“Yes,” Jemma confirmed. “That man, he – well, I don’t know what he wanted, but he…had a gun.”

“We were lucky Mack can think on her feet,” Fitz added.

“What did you guys find?” Skye continued to press. “What was the 084?”

There was a pause, perhaps noticeable only to Mack and her parents. Then, Fitz said, “Nothing. I don’t know what the images picked up, but there was nothing here.” 

Skye’s brow furrowed. “But I thought I heard you say – ”

“There was nothing here, Skye,” Jemma interrupted.

**

The others were all waiting in the hangar when they returned, buzzing with energy and radiating varying levels of worry. Jemma and Fitz rushed immediately to Coulson, both bending over the baby in his arms, but Mack couldn’t help searching out Hunter. They made eye contact and he seemed to let out the breath he was holding, relief evident on his face. Mack fought a pointless urge to run into his arms, kiss him, celebrate the fact that not only had she managed to save her parents’ life, she also didn’t end up getting killed in the process. She looked away instead.

“Everybody go to bed,” Coulson called out. “That’s an order. We’ll debrief in the morning.”

The group dispersed, leaving only Mack, Skye, her parents and her…self. They gathered closer to each other, standing somewhat awkwardly in a circle and smiling at each other. And then Skye rolled her eyes and reached out to take the baby.

“OK, I know you two are probably desperate at this point. How about baby Mack and Auntie Skye have a sleepover tonight so you guys can get your freak on?”

Fitz blushed an immediate bright red, and Mack laughed, for once too happy to be grossed out or even pretend to be. She laughed even harder when Jemma grabbed his hand and began pulling him away. He didn’t resist very much, or at all, really. Before they got very far, however, Jemma turned back and rushed over to Mack. She hugged her tightly and Mack gasped, feeling overwhelmed as she lifted her arms to return the hug.

“Thank you,” Jemma whispered. “You saved our lives. _Thank you_. I can’t even begin – my daughter, she – ”

“I’d do it all over again, a thousand times,” Mack interrupted. 

Jemma stepped back, sliding her hands down Mack’s arms until they held her own. They stared at each other a few moments, smiling widely at each other, blinking back tears. And then Jemma turned, bent over the baby in Skye’s arms and kissed her forehead, and went to Fitz again. He grinned at Mack before turning, and she watched them until they were out of sight.

**

Jemma’s eyelids fluttered with pleasure as Fitz nibbled at her neck. He felt unbelievably good on top of her, his weight an anchor holding her down and giving her something solid to push back against. Her hips moved almost of their own accord, twisting and lifting, rutting against his own. It was so the right time to be doing this. So beyond the right time.

“Fitz,” she groaned. 

She’d always believed the whole sex as a celebration of not dying thing was a convenient excuse used by people who wanted to, well, fuck like bunnies but weren’t willing to admit it. And maybe that was the case, because that was certainly a good description of her and Fitz for far too long. But there was something to it after all, it seemed. She wanted him. She needed to be with him. And she desired it all the more knowing she might never have had it again. 

“Is this OK?” he asked, his voice rough and right in her ear and sending a white-hot shiver through her. “Are you – ?”

Jemma nodded, rather urgently, sliding her hands along his back. “Oh, Fitz,” she sighed. 

She reached down then, skimming her hands over his torso and onto his rear. She squeezed, then pressed down, forcing him to rock against her. She inhaled sharply at the resulting sensation, but Fitz jumped, apparently in surprise.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling back slightly. “Sorry. I’m just – nervous.”

“Why?” Jemma breathed out. She licked her lips and tried to look at him. It wasn’t easy – her pupils were blown and little strands of her hair fell into her eyes, making her blink. “We’ve done this before.”

“ _Once_ before,” he pointed out. “And that was hardly – ”

“It was fantastic,” Jemma interrupted, contradicting whatever he planned to say.

His skeptical face in response would have made her laugh at any other time. But not right now. “It was,” she said. He ducked his head in embarrassment as he started to believe her, and Jemma chuckled breathlessly. “It really was. I mean, I’m not saying I want it to be like that all the time, but – aggressive Fitz is pretty hot.”

He looked up at her then, eyes wide. “Yeah?”

Jemma nodded, feeling a little bashful. Then, she rolled her eyes at herself. “Fitz, you’re about one minute from being inside me. Your wife. You really don’t believe how much I want you?”

His eyes darkened with desire, and his smile turned lascivious. “Pretty sure it’s gonna be sooner than one minute.”

Jemma grinned, tingling all over in expectation. And then, quite suddenly, she turned sentimental and emotional. Damn hormones. “It was when we made Mack too,” she reminded him unnecessarily. “So that made it even a thousand times better.”

“Yeah,” Fitz smiled, nodding in agreement. “Definitely.”

“Nothing to be nervous about,” she whispered. “It’s just you and me.”

“Right.”

“So can we get on with it already?”

“Absolutely.”

“OK,” Jemma said. And then she pushed at his shoulder, forcing him up and away from her. He seemed confused. “Just – let me – I want to be on top. I want to be able to control it, just in case.”

“Are you sure you’re – ”

“Yes, Fitz. I’m ready. Just – please, I waited extra long to be sure and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“OK,” Fitz agreed, the word cut off by her kiss as she positioned herself on top of him. 

In a move reminiscent of their first time together, Jemma reached down to grab hold of him. She began to stroke, bringing him to full hardness. He moaned, and they shared breath for a moment. Jemma laughed in delight, trying to kiss him again and failing to pucker properly which only made her smile wider. She guided him closer to her, and sat up slightly, adjusting her position and preparing to – 

“Crap!” He bolted up, grabbing hold of her hips before she could move any farther. “Condom.”

It took Jemma a moment to realize what he was saying, and then she shook her head. Even if they had one in the bedside table, which she wasn’t entirely sure about, it was _so far away_ and she just wanted to feel him again, no barriers just like before. She wanted to relish in the knowledge that she was able to be with him, would be with him forever, when she had been so afraid for so long that they would never have each other like this again. And besides…

“Breastfeeding,” she said. 

“Oh. Oh, right. But still – ”

“Shhh,” she said, interrupting him with another kiss, and before he could worry further, she lifted herself onto her knees and then sunk down onto him.

**

Mack sighed to herself, reading over the letter she had just finished writing. She wasn’t sure she had found all the right words, but at the very least, it said what it needed to. She signed it, folded it and sealed it in the container she had prepared for that purpose, set to open at the right time and not a minute before. And then she added the container to the evidence box.

She checked the inventory – the gun and tissue and blood samples the clean-up team had taken before disposing of the body, the Well so she’d be able to find it in the future. Or something. Her brain had started to hurt trying to figure out how it all worked. Then she picked up the last thing on the table – a copy of the group picture they had taken at her parents’ wedding. She smiled as she noted only a few of them were actually looking at the camera. Her dad was looking at her mom, as he always did. And her mom was looking at the baby. Mack was looking at all three of them. And…and Hunter was looking at her.

Mack sighed again, then placed the picture in the box. She sealed it, marked it with the appropriate case number, and filed it on the shelf in the evidence room where it belonged. Walking two rows over, she found the box that had been put into storage shortly after her own arrival. She opened it and took _her_ Well out. 

It was time. She needed to go back.

Tomorrow. She’d wait until tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: Lactational amenorrhea is quite an effective birth control method, _when done correctly_. But it’s not 100%, so, you know. Use multiple forms of birth control if you’re at all in doubt.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_“Yes, yes. I know. You want your breakfast, don’t you?”_

_May watched as Coulson reached out for the bottle on his desk and attempted to feed Mack. The baby was having none of it, screeching loudly in protest. May suspected she actually wanted something – someone else, but there was no point in wishing for things that couldn’t be. It was perhaps good to learn that early in life._

_“What are we going to do with her?”_

_Coulson twisted to look at her. “What do you mean, what are we going to do with her? She’ll stay with us.”_

_May felt just a tiny bit of relieved hope at that answer, but she knew she couldn’t agree. Someone had to think about what was best for the child, after all._

_“Grow up here? Is that really – ”_

_“We’re her family.”_

_“Jemma’s parents. Fitz’ mom.”_

_“They’ll see her whenever they want,” Coulson agreed. “But FitzSimmons made us her godparents for a reason.”_

_May sighed. She walked to the other side of the office, keeping her back to Coulson and the baby in his arms. Mack was finally starting to calm down, though she still made little complaining noises around the bottle’s nipple at times. Coulson was silent, and May somehow knew exactly what he was going to say next. She braced herself, preparing to play the role she had implicitly vowed to do when she agreed to be Coulson’s second in command._

_“I should never have sent them alone,” he observed, his voice quiet and grief-stricken._

_“Bobbi and I agreed with you,” she reminded him, trying to remain firm yet comforting. “The risk was small.”_

_“Not that small, apparently.”_

_May inhaled, then exhaled slowly. She continued to stare blankly at the wall in front of her. “You can’t undo the past. Let them go.”_

_“I know,” Coulson agreed, and she could hear that he recognized the advice but wasn’t ready to take it. “But I – I don’t know how to – I don’t know what’s next.”_

_“What’s next is we find the person who did this. We solve the bombings. We be the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents the world needs us to be.”_

_Coulson sighed. May heard him rock the baby a bit, murmur something quiet and probably silly at her. And then he spoke again. “Any leads?”_

_“Nothing on…him, yet. The bombings…it’s the Brevigs, it has to be.”_

_“We have no proof,” Coulson reminded her._

_“I know it’s them. I know it,” she said._

_“Then we’ll do it right.”_

_“We should do_ something _now,” May countered. “Before anyone else dies. Someone has to be held accountable for the shootings.”_

_There was a long pause. “You mean bombings,” Coulson said._

_May didn’t respond. She simply turned and walked out of his office._

**

“Yes, yes. I know. You want your breakfast, don’t you?”

Fitz watched as Jemma took the baby from Skye, thanked her again for watching Mack, and closed the bedroom door. She walked back over to the bed, crawling carefully onto it and getting situated before letting Mack have at it. 

Lucky kid.

Not that he hadn’t had his turn getting his mouth on her breasts – and just about every other part of her body – the night before. Fitz was exhausted, to be honest, and Jemma looked like she was too. She smiled lazily at him, and he reached a hand out to thread it through her rather mussed hair. Then he sat up and leaned forward to kiss the top of his daughter’s head. 

“I love you,” he whispered to her. 

“What about me?” Jemma asked coyly.

“You’re OK, I guess.”

“Cheeky.”

“Mmm,” Fitz stretched his arms above his head, smiling. There were a lot worse reasons to be stiff and sore in the morning. “I should get going,” he observed. “Get the lab up and running for the day.” 

Jemma nodded. “See you soon.”

He leaned over and kissed her, unable to control his smile when their lips touched. “Take your time.”

As he stood and grabbed some clothes to bring to the shower, Jemma just shook her head. “No, I want to get back into the lab as soon as possible. We’re going to solve those bombings today, Fitz. I’m sure of it.”

“You know,” he said. “I think you might be right. Today feels like it’s going to be a great day.”

**

Today sucked. Mack hated saying goodbyes, especially when the other people didn’t realize she was saying goodbye.

She started with the Koenigs, slipping unnoticed into the tiny office where they sat, arguing with each other over something no doubt completely stupid. She considered interrupting them, but knew somehow a goodbye wouldn’t be necessary anyway. They’d be there when she got back to her own time, exactly the same as they always were. So, she merely placed the small model of the Millennium Falcon she had bought a few weeks ago on the side table and snuck back out. 

She went to Bobbi next, feeling all the guilt that she had been repressing for nearly the last year. She knew, _technically_ , that they were broken up both back then and in the future and that Bobbi never even spoke to him anymore. She knew all that. But 25 years down the road after two bad divorces was not quite the same thing as a week or two after a split half-believed to be temporary. After everything Bobbi had done for Mack over the years, it seemed particularly ungrateful to just…steal her boyfriend. She regretted that, and she regretting hurting Hunter, even if she couldn’t bring herself to regret the actual relationship. 

“Bobbi?” she asked, once she’d entered the training room and spotted her sparring with Big Mack. If one could call it that, considering he was on the ground and Bobbi was straddling his chest. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

She and Big Mack looked at each other for a moment, and Mack held her breath. Then Bobbi patted his chest. “You may as well just stay right there, big guy.”

“Oh, ha ha,” he replied, sitting up as soon as she hopped off him. 

Mack felt sick to her stomach, waiting for Bobbi to reach her. When she did, they stepped over to the corner, and Mack took a deep breath. 

“I just – I wanted – I think I should have said this a long time ago but – ”

“Oh Jesus, stop.”

“Huh?”

“Whatever you feel like you have to say, you don’t. You didn’t owe me anything, and neither did he. If anything, you saved me from making another stupid mistake.”

“But…”

“But nothing. I love Hunter – not like that, not anymore. You love Hunter – deny it all you want. But let’s not pretend he’s worth two kick-ass girls like us pulling each other’s hair over. “

“I don’t love him,” Mack automatically denied, cringing as she heard the obvious lie.

“Please. For someone who passed Orientation with flying colors… Honey, you have more tells than Simmons.”

Mack smiled awkwardly, and Bobbi seemed to pause when she saw her reaction. She tilted her head, wheels clearly starting to turn, and Mack distracted her as quickly as possible.

“I really don’t, though,” she said, purposely trying to make the lie even more apparent.

“Keep that up and I _will_ find some way to get back at you.”

Mack smiled, more genuinely this time, “Get back to the other Mack.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi shrugged. “Probably should.”

She reached out and tapped Mack affectionately on the shoulder. Mack almost fell over, both from the unintended force of the contact and because she realized she might have, in the nick of time, gotten this Bobbi to like her. As Bobbi turned around, Mack stepped forward as well.

“Hey, Big Mack! Don’t let her kick your ass too many times!”

“I like it when she kicks my ass!” he shouted back.

Mack grinned. “See you later,” she called out, crossing her fingers for luck. 

“Later, Little Mack.”

Skye was simple, in a way. Mack could imagine a thousand different universes, but she couldn’t imagine one where Daisy wasn’t still there, leading S.H.I.E.L.D. with a strength and compassion beyond her years, loving the family she had found, and being the best aunt-slash-big-sister in the world. So, she walked up behind her, where she was sitting at a table wasting time on the internet, and she leaned down to kiss her cheek.

Skye turned in surprise. “What was that for?”

Mack smiled and walked away. 

She walked directly to Coulson’s office, not at all surprised to see May there as well. This felt the worst, somehow. These two who were essentially her parents, in so many ways that counted. Knowing she’d be saying goodbye to both versions forever. Hoping they were still close, still had a meaningful if different relationship in the new future. Hoping May was more open and affectionate, the way she remembered her, and less like she was now. Hoping Pops was – exactly the same, only that he knew she was one of _his_ people. 

“Got a second, boss?”

She wondered how she’d manage this goodbye while still avoiding telling him the truth he was waiting for. She had been honest – she’d tell him someday. But today was not someday. 

“Hey, kid,” May responded first. “Good shooting last night. Right between the eyes.”

Mack exhaled a little laugh, blinking quickly as she said, “I learned from the best.”

“What is it, Mack?” Coulson asked.

She inhaled deeply. And then – 

“We got it! We got it! It’s the Order, the Brevigs, and we can prove it!”

Her parents practically fell over each other as they hurried into Coulson’s office, Jemma with her forgotten goggles still on her face and Fitz gesturing wildly with the tablet strapped to his hand. Mack moved aside as the others rushed to meet each other in the center of the office. She continued to step back, tripping slightly from not looking where she was going.

She smiled at the group, felt like she’d burst from the love she had for them, and then she left the room. One more goodbye.

It seemed fitting, in a way, that when she finally found him, he was in the locker room. He closed his door just as she walked in. He glanced up, looked momentarily shocked, and then nodded in wary welcome.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

They stood there staring at each other. Mack bounced on her feet a little, feeling entirely uncomfortable. 

“Look, I – ”

“If you want to – ” he began at the same time.

They both paused, laughing quietly. And then Mack gestured for him to continue.

“It’s just – I know everyone’s acting like you were great – and you were! But…don’t let them fool you. It’s hard to kill someone, whether it’s your first time or your fiftieth. If you need to talk, I’ve got an ear. If you want to cry, I’ve got a shoulder.” 

Mack felt her heart throb. Damn him for being sweet at a time like this. “Thanks,” she whispered. And then she thought about it, really thought about it, and said, “But…I’m OK. I don’t feel guilty or upset. He was there to kill...people, and I just beat him to it. Everything happened how it was supposed to. It just – feels _right_ , you know what I mean?”

He stared back at her, and neither of them blinked or even breathed. Then he ducked his head, swallowing. “I thought I did once.”

Mack’s guilt rushed back in, incredibly fast, at his double meaning. She should never have – what had she been _thinking_? 

“Look,” Hunter continued. “I talked to Coulson about a transfer but…I mean, I don’t _have_ to take it. Just…think about what you want and if…”

Mack tried desperately to control her expression, and to ignore the way her heart jumped and the way she just briefly, just for a moment, considered staying with him. Would finding out if it really was love be worth the whole universe imploding?

Of course not.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed out.

He nodded, dropping eye contact again. “Yeah. No, I – ”

“Lance, I’m so sorry. I wanted to fix things and I just ruined others. Just…please. Be happy.”

“You want me to tell you what will make me happy?” he asked, his voice raw.

“No.” Mack paused, inhaling a trembling breath. “Please don’t.”

And suddenly he became annoyed, and he sighed sharply. “Mack, what do you – ”

She interrupted him the only way she knew how, even if it would only confuse things more. It was a long kiss, full of passion. His hands came up to her cheeks, covering the trails of tears she hadn’t even realized had started to fall. She wrapped her own arms around his neck, practically crawling up his body in a fruitless attempt to get even closer to him. His tongue darted into her mouth, caressing her own, and his lips were so soft, a strange contradiction to the beard scratching at her mouth. 

She broke the kiss, panting heavily as they continued to hold each other, resting her forehead against his as she stared at the floor.

“I hope I see you later.”

There was a long pause, and Mack froze when she realized she had said that out loud. 

“I can come over around 10,” he eventually murmured. “We can talk.”

She struggled for a reply, and then just shook her head. “Yeah, OK. 10. I want that, Lance. Don’t forget.”

He pulled away, gave her a quick smile and another peck to the cheek. Then he was gone. Mack waited for the door to the locker room to swing shut.

“Don’t forget I wanted it,” she whispered.

**

Mack swallowed in an attempt to control her nerves as she reviewed her calculations one more time. Then she destroyed the evidence of her work, adjusted the settings on the Gill battery she had secretly built when she hadn’t been able to find any in the lab, and took a deep, fearful breath.

Moment of truth.

She reached out, grabbed hold of her Well with a surprisingly steady hand, and with the other, she flipped the switch.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Mack woke up with a start, feeling disoriented and nauseated. She looked around the room, breathing heavily, hoping she could somehow gauge if it had worked simply from her location – 

No. No, no, no.

She was still in her bedroom at the Playground. 

She stood quickly, pausing just long enough for the vertigo to pass, and then hurried out the door, looking for someone, anyone. There, just ahead of her and walking quickly in the opposite direction was Skye – but, no. It was Daisy. She could tell by the short hair. 

“Daisy!”

She turned to face Mack, a confused smile on her face. “What did you just call me?” she asked, laughing.

Mack paused. “…Daisy?”

“You bump your head or something?”

“Skye?” Mack nearly whispered, feeling weirdly sick.

“That’s my name, kid; don’t wear it out.”

Mack swallowed, and then stumbled as a whooshing sensation went through her. She remembered now, the competing recollections battling for primacy but neither quite winning out. Daisy, who had mastered her powers by the time Mack was old enough to understand what they were, who had found the answers she had been searching for her whole life only to face more heartache when she realized she would never get the chance to know the parents forever warped and lost to her, who had helped fill a void in Mack’s life left by Jemma and Fitz. And Skye, who apparently had never awakened the forces within her, never found out the truth of her past, but had filled that missing void with the family formed by everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D., perhaps most especially Mack’s parents. She struggled to speak, and Skye stared at her some more.

“Seriously, are you OK, Mack? You better have your mom check you out.”

Her mom. 

“Right,” Mack breathed out. “I’ll go do that now.”

She hurried down the hall, muscle memory taking her to the lab. Every agent she passed sparked new-old memories, throwing her off balance, but she finally arrived. Mack pushed open the door and skidded to a standstill.

Good grief.

Her dad had her mom bent back over a bench in the corner, and they were kissing pretty hot and heavy. Her mom’s hand was nestled in his hair, which was receding a bit farther back than the last time Mack had seen him, and his hand was creeping up underneath her shirt. They were too old for this. They were – they were co-heads of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s entire science division and members of the Academy’s board. They were not teenagers copping a feel when they were supposed to be working. Mack sighed loudly, and her parents jumped, turning to face her. They didn’t even have the decency to blush, and Mack’s new memories continued to fill in, reminding her that this was hardly the first time she’d walked in on them being amorous with each other.

“It’s amazing I don’t have more siblings,” she said, and then she nearly choked on her own words. More. More. Yes, there were – 

“Haven’t you heard of birth control?” her dad asked, winking at her.

Mack scoffed. Loudly. Have you, she thought.

“All three of you were completely planned,” her mother added in a rather superior tone. 

Mack shook her head, already turning to leave the room. She needed to find them. Now. “Toni and I aren’t even a full year apart,” she tossed over her shoulder, ignoring her father’s snicker and her mother’s huff in response.

She broke into a run once she hit the hall, her feet knowing the path. Of course she knew exactly where they’d be, where they always spent their time when Pops and May were in town. She hurried into his old and Skye’s current office, remembering how they had all grown up in there, in his care when their parents were busy working with dangerous chemicals or biological specimens. Mack slowed as she entered the room, breathing heavily from the exertion, not to mention the emotion.

Toni – Antoinette, who her father pretended her mother named after Antoine Lavoisier but who was really named for Trip, someone none of them had ever known but all of them had heard about many times – just back from a postdoc abroad and taking some time off before starting her first year at the Academy. She hated whenever Mack teased her about how she’d fail her out of freshman seminar. And James, called the black sheep by their parents and the dumb one by Toni and Mack. Finishing high school at the ripe old age of 18 but hardly a slouch. Like all FitzSimmonses, he was precocious and already had a novel on the best seller list – an action thriller about a group of ragtag secret agents that reviews were calling delightfully melodramatic if slightly too unrealistic. 

And then Pops and May too, laughing over whatever ruthless trash talk was being thrown back and forth. Mack watched as May picked up a card from the pile and added it to her hand, her face revealing nothing.

“Aha,” James said. “Your tell has given you away.”

Mack laughed, and they all looked up at her. 

“About time you woke up,” Toni observed. “Thought you were gonna sleep all day like a teenager.”

“Didn’t feel well,” Mack responded, rather breathlessly.

But before anyone could say anything else, Da – Skye walked in. She tossed her tablet on her desk and glanced over at the others.

“Hate to interrupt, but I need Mack in the briefing room. And you guys too if you want to come.”

“Us?” Toni asked excitedly.

“Not _you_.”

“What’s going on?” Mack asked.

“Weird electric surge about 15 minutes ago.”

“Is that what that was?” James asked. “We noticed the lights flickering but figured the Koenigs were making popcorn and had blown up a microwave or something again.”

Mack felt distinctly uncomfortable. And when Pops looked over at her, a strange knowing expression on his face, she felt even more so. Skye walked past her, heading towards the briefing room, and Mack followed quickly. She avoided Pops’ gaze entirely, even as he and May caught up to them in the hall. 

Mack took a seat across from her parents, and then she forgot for a second why she was there. She grinned broadly at Bobbi and Big Mack sitting at the far end of the table, leaning close to talk to each other quietly. She and her siblings had a bet going on when they’d finally give in to the long-standing flirtation between them. And then, suddenly, Mack felt like she’d been punched in the stomach.

If Big Mack was there, who else would be? She searched her brain, trying to jostle something loose, wondering if there was any memory in there. Wondering how things had changed, if he had… Mack looked eagerly at the door, waiting, maybe even secretly hoping…

But he didn’t show up, and Skye began the meeting. Mack realized Skye didn’t expect anyone else. He had left, maybe taken the transfer he had arranged. There were no memories of him, no recollection of him ever being there in this shiny new version of her childhood and adulthood she was still sorting out. She _hoped_ he had transferred, or found something else that made him happy. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being…gone for some other reason. Oh God, what if he had been k – 

“So,” Skye said. “Electric surge here in the Playground. I hadn’t worried too much about it, because this is a weird old building. And then I got this alert; we’ve seen it before, apparently. Twice before. Once with…some John Doe and once with – oh my God, Mackenzie Leopold. I had forgotten all about her.”

Ugh. Thanks, Skye. Mack loved her too. 

But Mack’s petulance didn’t last long. Not when Pops was looking at her again. Mack folded her hands on the table and pretended to put her whole focus onto Skye’s briefing. 

“Anyway, we’re – ” Skye stopped speaking, cut off by an alert from her tablet. She leaned down and swiped at it. “Julie?”

“Hi, Skye. There’s…well, there’s something beeping in one of the evidence boxes. Should I, I don’t know, open it?”

“Huh. No better not,” Skye replied. “I’ll send someone down for it. What’s the case number?”

“3729.” The answer wasn’t from Julie; it was from Pops. Damn. Mack looked at him then, entirely involuntarily, and they held eye contact for a long moment. “Just a guess,” he added. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Julie said, her voice pitched high from excited shock. Everyone else looked at Pops in surprise. “Good guess!”

“Thanks Julie; we’ll send someone right down.”

Skye hung up, and Bobbi immediately suggested, smirking a bit, “Send Mack and make Julie’s day.”

Mack sighed.

**

They sent Billy instead, and when he arrived with it, he placed the box in the center of the table.

“Hope it’s not a bomb,” he joked nervously.

“Ooh! Maybe it’s – ” Sam began, and Billy turned to him to continue their speculation.

“How about Mack opens it?” Pops broke in.

“Me?” Big Mack did not seem particularly keen on that idea.

“’Kenzie,” Pops clarified. 

May rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Twenty-five years of this nonsense, FitzSimmons.”

Jemma smirked. “We let you name James.”

“I’ll open it,” Mack agreed. She had planned to, anyway. 

Lifting the lid off the box, she reached inside and grabbed the beeping container, the lock she had set years ago finally releasing. She undid the latch, and pulled out the letter. She sat down, cleared her throat several times, and then, hands shaking as she held the sheet up, she began to read.

“Dear Pops, May, D-Skye, Bobbi, Billy, Sam, I hope Mack and…Hunter, and most of all, Mom and Dad,” she said, her voice trembling. She ignored the looks of surprise and confusion the others – besides Pops – sent each other. “If everything went according to plan, I’ll be reading this to you the day I come back from 2015. If not, at least you’ll finally have an explanation for what happened.”

Mack took a deep breath, steeling herself to say the next words. 

“In my timeline, the one I left, Mom and Dad were – were dead.” She glanced up at them quickly, forcing a weak smile at their shocked faces. “Killed by a man who was also from the future. So I figured out how he did it, and managed to do it myself, though maybe not with the best timing. I had never intended to spend so long with you, to get so close to everyone, or to nearly destroy the world. I’m sorry for lying to you, but I don’t regret any of it. I fixed things and made sure we all had the hopefully happy lives we were supposed to. If I can’t get it to work again and I don’t make it home, just know that I love you all so very much. I would travel through a thousand universes to protect you.”

She stopped speaking, swallowed and looked up. “Love, Mack,” she added belatedly.

Everyone stared back at her. There was absolutely no sound in the room for what felt like hours. And then – 

“I knew it!” Bobbi shouted. “I mean, I didn’t know _that_ , but I knew it was something!”

Suddenly, the others were laughing, talking over each other as they tried to process what they had learned, tried to sort through their memories of Mack back then. Her dad leaned back in his chair, eyes wide and unblinking, his mouth dropped slightly open and his hands clasped over his forehead. 

“Time travel is real?”

Her mom glanced over at him quickly, grinning through tears, and then she stood and walked over to Mack. She crouched in front of her, reached up for her face and pulled her close enough to kiss. 

“Oh my darling,” she said. “I love you more than life itself.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, understanding each other without any more words. Then May interrupted them, her observation silencing the rest of the group.

“You knew.”

Mack turned to Pops, who simply shrugged in acknowledgment. “Things started to add up over the years. And besides – I thought you all were supposed to be trained spies. For crying out loud, she and Fitz could be clones.”

Mack laughed out loud. 

Pops merely stood and bent over the table to pull the box closer. He lifted out the Well. “We’ll be destroying this. And what’s this – oh my God.”

He handed the picture to Mack, and she looked at it with a wistful smile. She ran her finger quickly over the image of the man on the edge, the one looking at her rather than the camera, and then placed it on the table. The others all leaned over to see and reminisce.

**

Fitz’ eyes were half-closed in pleasure, and his mouth was entirely dry from his heavy breathing. He wasn’t about to stop what he was doing though, not when Jemma was sunk snugly on top of him, pivoting in little circles and rhythmically tightening around him in lieu of the thrusts they couldn’t quite manage from this position. She bit her lower lip and moaned, leaning back to make eye contact. She blinked a few times to focus and then smiled.

Maybe it was the reminder they had received that day of the circumstances surrounding the beginning of their romantic relationship, but Fitz couldn’t stop thinking back to that very first time. How uncertain and overwhelmed he had been. How he had walked out on her – a move he had paid for many times since then, such as when Jemma wanted to defeat his admittedly irrational jealous attempt to veto Toni’s name. And yet how amazing she had felt. How he knew he’d never want to be with anyone else ever again. He still felt that way. Still was so much in love with her. Still couldn’t quite believe she let him be with her like this. It was still so good, better every time. Fitz sighed, bending to rest his forehead against her sweaty collarbone.

She chuckled before grinding down, pressing their pubic bones together to increase the friction on her clit. Fitz whimpered in response, his hands clutching rather uselessly at her back.

“Not sure,” she said breathlessly, “why learning time travel is real got you so turned on that you had to jump me in the middle of the afternoon, but I gave up trying to understand your kinks long ago.”

“ _You_ get me turned on,” Fitz argued, pausing to lick his lips. “You’re my kink.”

Jemma slowed her movement then, reaching for his face and pushing him back so they could see each other again. She blinked away sudden tears. “We died, Fitz. We – ”

He shook his head. “We lived. She saved us.”

Jemma took an unsteady breath, then nodded. 

“So let’s celebrate that, huh?” he added, flashing her a smile.

“Wow, cheesy,” she countered, laughing.

Fitz didn’t bother responding verbally. He merely braced one hand on her back and one on the bed as he repositioned them, lowering Jemma to the mattress. Recalling their first time once again, he then took her hands and trapped them above her head. The expression Jemma gave him was more than enough to spur him on, and he began to drive into her with all the strength he had. Alas, it wasn’t as much as it used to be, but he had learned just what she liked when she wanted ‘Aggressive Fitz’. It didn’t last long before they were both crying out in completion, and Fitz rolled off to the side with a groan. 

After a few minutes, Jemma giggled. “You know, last time we celebrated our survival, we got Toni.”

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a concern this time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Fitz said immediately, if a little tongue-in-cheek. “You’re a spring chicken who never has erratic mood swings, and I definitely keep the temperature in the lab too hot.”

“Thank you for finally admitting it,” Jemma responded haughtily.

Fitz snickered. He turned his head to face her. “I meant me. And even if it was a concern, impromptu sex would never be a problem. All our children were completely planned, remember?”

Jemma snorted. “Getting you snipped really was the smartest choice we ever made.”

 _We?_ he mouthed dubiously at her. 

She ignored him. Sighing with contentment, she looked up at the ceiling. After a moment, she shook her head. “I can’t believe we didn’t figure it out.”

“We’re supposed to be geniuses,” Fitz agreed. “And she really does look just like me.”

Jemma laughed. “No wonder she found it so funny when I told her I thought you two were into each other.”

Fitz shuddered dramatically. 

“When all along,” Jemma continued to recollect, “she was…oh God.”

It took Fitz a moment, and then he dry heaved, his post-orgasmic euphoria definitely gone. 

“I’m gonna kill him.”


	18. Epilogue

Mack half-heartedly folded a shirt and tossed it in her suitcase. She couldn’t work up the energy to get excited about returning to the Academy. She had no pressing research to get back to, anyway, and she was having far too much of a good time helping her parents out in the lab and working on little side projects with her dad and Big Mack and having long chats with her mom about, well, _almost_ everything and eating big, boisterous family dinners every night. She was enjoying herself way too much hanging out with her siblings, who were suitably impressed with her time travel feat and kept trying to find out all the details about what their family and friends had been like when they were younger. Thankfully, they apparently had been warned not to ask Mack about the other timeline she had grown up in. Mack didn’t really want to talk about it, and she was pretty sure it wouldn’t be a good idea to do so, anyway. Even in her debriefing with Pops, Skye and her parents, they all agreed she should stick to the facts of the case and not reveal any personal details about anyone. 

Anyway. The point was Mack wasn’t ready to go back to the real world yet. But she knew she couldn’t stay forever. She just kind of wished she could have some sort of closure, some sort of way to mark the beginning of her new life, beyond just her typical end-of-break-back-to-work dinner with the others at the Playground. Mack sighed.

Then she looked up in surprise at the knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called out.

The door swooshed open, and Bobbi entered. Rather predictably, she walked over to the bed and threw herself onto the pile of Mack’s clean, yet to be folded clothes. She bounced a bit and smiled up at Mack.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey Bobbi, what’s up?”

“When do you gotta be back at the Academy? Seriously-classes-are-starting-in-five-minutes-gotta-be-back.”

“Um.” Mack thought as she tugged a shirt out from underneath Bobbi and began to fold it. “Like…Sunday. I mean, yeah, Monday by 7:55, but Sunday would be better.”

“Oh, great! Skye is sending me over to Europe for a few days. If you don’t mind tagging along while I meet with some people at the Palace, we could do a girls’ trip in London after.”

“The _palace_? Like King William?!”

Bobbi tossed her head back and laughed. “The Palace, like the S.T.R.I.K.E. base.”

“Oh.” Mack hesitated. “Yeah, I mean. If you want to. It – it sounds like fun.”

“C’mon, shopping and shows in London, double-decker buses, an entire police force known as bobbies, and you. Why wouldn’t I want to?”

Mack swallowed, blinking quickly to clear her eyes of the tears starting to burn in them. “It’s – ” She sniffed loudly and then laughed at herself. “Sorry, I guess I just forgot what it feels like to be friends with you. You didn’t like me very much back then.”

“Yeah, well.” Bobbi said casually. “You were sleeping with my ex.”

Mack paused. Then she quickly ducked her head and returned to folding her clothes, extremely aware of the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I’d hoped you’d forgotten,” she muttered.

“No such luck, sweetie,” Bobbi replied, thankfully in an amused tone. She pushed herself up and hopped off the bed. “So finish packing. We’ll fly out in the morning.”

Mack nodded, using all her will power to let the conversation end and to not ask any…

“Bobbi?”

She was already at the door, but turned to face Mack again. Mack could tell by her expression that Bobbi knew what she wanted to ask.

“What – what – where…? Is he…dead?”

“Hunter? Nah.” Bobbi replied, surprisingly nonchalant. Mack closed her eyes in relief. “He moped around about you for a long time. It was rather tiresome, actually. Eventually he moved on. And then one day…he decided to move on from life at the Playground too. Last I heard he was doing private security or something. I think he’s happy. Mack and I check in with him every couple years or so, and I think he chats with your dad and Coulson still now and again.”

Mack nodded, then took a deep breath. “OK. Thanks.”

Bobbi smiled at her, tapped on the doorframe, and left the room.

**

Mack hurried along, trying to keep up with Bobbi, who was walking very quickly through the halls of the Palace. She apparently knew exactly where she was going, and Mack had vague recollections of Bobbi liaising many times throughout her life with different S.H.I.E.L.D. and S.T.R.I.K.E. bases. The Palace must have been one of them. She wished Bobbi would slow down a bit for people who weren’t so familiar with the halls, and she felt annoyed as usual that someone about 30 years older than her could move so fast while she was beginning to huff and puff from the pace.

“Oh, sorry!” Mack said, glancing quickly at the passing agent she had bumped into.

“No problemo,” he called back, and Mack did a double take. How many of them _were_ there?

Bobbi led her down another hall and into an office suite. She nodded at the assistant out front. “He in?”

“On his way. He knows you’re here; go take a seat.”

“Thanks.”

Mack followed her into the room and sat in the guest chair Bobbi pointed at. And then she raised her eyebrows in surprise when Bobbi walked around the desk and sat in the director’s chair. She somewhat obnoxiously rearranged a couple things on the desk and then leaned back and threw her feet up.

“Um…”

Bobbi just gave her an innocent smile. Mack shrugged. It was hardly the strangest thing she’d ever seen Bobbi do. 

“How far away do I have to move before you stop dropping in to bother me?”

Mack’s eyes opened wide and it felt like all the blood drained from her face. It took her a moment to realize the screaming she heard was in her own head.

She knew that voice.

Bobbi flashed her a truly wicked smirk before standing to greet the new arrival. She faced him as he came around the desk and put his hand on her waist. He leaned in, and Bobbi turned her head to the side with a more genuine smile as he kissed her cheek.

“Hey, Bob, everything OK?”

While he was focused on his ex, Mack took the opportunity to look at him. There was a little softness on top of the muscles, more crinkles next to his eyes and more gray in his beard. Overall, he seemed a little…grizzlier, a little wearier perhaps, and apparently much more settled and responsible, but so very much the same despite it all. 

“Everything’s fine,” Bobbi answered. “I actually don’t need to talk to you at all, but I think this girl does.”

Mack stood abruptly, nervously knocking over and quickly catching one of the items at the edge of the desk. She righted it, then faced him again. His eyes narrowed in confusion, then widened in shocked recognition. They stared at each other, both speechless. 

Mack barely noticed as Bobbi slipped around Hunter and made her way towards Mack. She bent down and pressed her cheek to Mack’s as she gave her a little hug.

“Payback’s a bitch,” she whispered in Mack’s ear, teasing but not mean. “And so am I.”

The door had swung shut behind Bobbi and several more seconds had passed before either of them found their voice.

“Are you Asgardian?” he asked.

The question was so unexpected and yet so reasonable, Mack burst into laughter. “No,” she said, smiling wide. “I’m human.”

“But you’re the same age.”

Mack’s smile faded and she opened and closed her mouth, struggling for a response. “I…know. I – ”

“You just disappeared. What happened to you?”

Mack breathed in a quick little gasp at how broken his voice sounded. “I…um, it’s a long story.”

He nodded, looked down at his desk and traced a pattern on the surface with his finger. “Right,” he muttered. Then he looked up at her again, his expression suddenly hard. “I think you should go.”

Mack wanted to cry. He wasn’t even going to let her try to explain. It had been 25 years and he still hated her. She blinked rapidly, then nodded. She sighed. “Yeah, OK.”

And then she turned before he could see her face fall any further, walking quickly towards the door. She had her hand on the knob before she stopped. Steeling herself, she turned back around. It was worth a shot, after everything.

“It’s just… Lance, this _whole_ thing was about everyone getting a second chance to be happy,” she rushed through breathlessly. “Don’t you think we deserve that too?”

He gaped at her for a long moment. “Are you _serious_?”

Her shoulders fell as she breathed out. “You don’t…want to? You don’t have _any_ feelings for me at all, buried deep down somewhere?”

“No, I mean – are you serious? I could be your father.”

She exhaled a short laugh, tilting her head briefly. “Funny you should mention that.”

He just stared at her, still confused, still resistant. 

“No,” Mack inferred, nodding in acceptance. Then she forced a smile and shook her head. “Yeah, you’re right. It was a silly – just, OK. Bye.”

She turned. Her hand was once again on the knob before he spoke.

“Although…”

She spun to face him, trying to control her expression.

“It’s not like I could be your _grandfather_.”

Mack’s relieved smile stretched so wide it hurt her cheeks. They held eye contact for one more second, and then they both moved forward at the same time, meeting somewhere in the middle of the room. Mack barely had time to think or process what was happening before their lips met as well. She clung to him, pulling him as tightly to her as she could, some tiny part of her brain cataloguing the similarities and differences in his body. His arms wrapped low around her waist, and she stumbled to catch her balance when he pulled her closer. 

Arms and hands moved urgently but ineffectively as they tried to touch each other everywhere, and they angled around, turning in a lopsided circle until he was in front of the guest chair. Mack broke the kiss just long enough to push him down and crawl on top of him. He grunted at her weight even as he slid his hands down to her ass and repositioned her until she was straddling his lap. She lifted her hands to his hair, and pulled him into another kiss which grew more passionate by the moment. It wasn’t until his hands moved around front and began to work at the button of her pants that reality broke through the haze of her lust.

“Wait,” she sighed, groaning both at her own conscience and the feel of his fingers sneaking through her now-open zipper and his knuckles making contact right where she wanted them. “Wait, wait. This is wrong. I need to tell you – we should talk – ”

“Mack,” he interrupted with an unbearably rough voice, and he looked at her with unfocused eyes. “It’s been 25 years, I feel like I could have a heart attack literally at _any_ moment, and yet for some reason you actually want to do this. Whatever you want to say, whatever explanations there are, it can wait. _Trust_ me.”

Mack hesitated for all of a second before she grinned. Biting her lower lip, she rocked her hips forward and down, felt his fingers skitter across her and watched his eyes close in response to the pressure on his cock. 

“Just remember you said that,” she warned before kissing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL, sorry ~~not sorry~~ if you’re bothered by large age differences. This one is a little much even for me, and I generally don’t mind them. But I succumbed to the worst fic-writer’s mistake and just got too invested in these crazy kids, OK? They were literally supposed to have a minor flirtation before Hunter got back together with Bobbi. But then Mackenzie “Didn’t grow up with a healthy relationship role model” FitzSimmons and Lance “Pfft! Healthy relationships are for wimps” Hunter skipped off hand in hand to boink in the locker room and the whole rest of the story unfolded before my eyes. Deal with it. ~~It’s arguably no unhealthier than Bobbi/Hunter.~~ (Also, seriously, Hunter? Where’s Big Mack when you need him? Of all the bad relationship decisions you’ve made, you might regret most not getting an explanation first.) 
> 
> Thanks so much to somefitzsimmonsfan for the prompt. Hope you enjoyed how I interpreted it! I found it super fun and also super challenging to incorporate all the themes and ideas I wanted to, including a rather complex plot where I had to keep the details of two (technically three) timelines straight, an OC who had to play such a major role, a non-OTP romance to sort-of-counter, sort-of-parallel the ups and downs of FitzSimmons, hints of an alternative origin story for Skye, etc. All great opportunities to stretch my wings a bit. While it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, it might just be one of my favorite AUs I’ve written. 
> 
> Aaaand the rumors are true. While the story was absolutely supposed to end right here, it’s now getting a sequel. SIGH. As you could probably tell, this one was inspired by Back to the Future and Terminator. The sequel will also be _loosely_ drawn from a couple movie series of my youth. *EVIL LAUGH* Join me soon, if you so desire, to see if Fitz survives his inevitable stroke.


End file.
